
When the last surviving beca maker in Kuala Lumpur, Benny Diong, had to close his business last year because of the pandemic, the art and craft of the KL beca would have been forgotten had it not been for 44-year-old cultural worker Jeffrey Lim.
“While researching local cycling culture and heritage for a project, I noticed that trishaws in different parts of Malaysia had unique designs,” Lim told FMT.
He had initially thought trishaws were mass manufactured when, in truth, even many of the tools used in creating them would have been handmade.
“These narratives risk being forgotten if the younger generation do not carry on the business. There’s so much value in these stories, and I needed to do something about it.”

In 2013, Lim managed to track down Diong, who had learnt the trade from his late father and had eventually taken over the family business.
“Benny was cool; he was enthralled that someone was interested in what he does, because at the time nobody cared,” Lim recalled.
He eventually commissioned Diong, now 66, to build a new trishaw and teach Lim the ropes so he could document the process from start to finish.
The two kept in touch over the years with Lim under the craftsman’s apprenticeship. But it was only last year that – faced with Diong’s decision to close the business – Lim was spurred into completing the project.
Fast forward to last month, when Lim presented the “Building the Beca” exhibition to a 230-strong audience at KongsiKL in Taman Goodwood.
The event featured a short film as well as archival videos about beca-building, covering the history and the process, as viewers were treated to footage of Lim and Diong constructing a brand-new trishaw from scratch (check out the photo gallery here).
Then there was the pièce de résistance: the newly completed beca itself, proudly on display at the arts and culture space.

Despite getting the support of a few organisations, Lim revealed it had been difficult obtaining funding for the project. Proposals sent to three different grant providers were declined.
“One even said not to send the application. It hit home that this was how our culture and heritage are viewed,” he said, adding that he’d been about to give up when a patron offered some funding.
And, with the help of several fundraising campaigns, Lim gathered the talents of a filmmaker, a researcher, and a drafter for technical drawings, to help him put the project together.
“We bought enough material to build four trishaws,” he said. “I needed to see the materials in their different forms: raw, in production, and in their assembled state.”
Among the items used for the construction were plywood, a paper umbrella, iron and steel pipes and tubes, as well as a bicycle from China. Filming was done in seven days, while the building of the trishaw took three, overseen by the master beca maker himself.
“It was tough for Diong as he hadn’t built a one in a long time, in addition to being physically unfit during the pandemic. It was hard work for all of us as we operated with a skeleton crew, but we made it,” Lim said proudly.

During the apprenticeship, Lim recalls being fascinated with the way Diong worked. “You didn’t have power tools back then. Your body acts as a tool, from your stance to the way you apply force – it’s almost like kung fu,” he quipped.
There is a lot of innovation, intelligence and intuition involved. “That’s why each beca is so unique, as each maker is different. They solved problems with what they had, and with their own bare hands, like MacGyver.”
Having accomplished his goal, Lim held on to the crucial machinery and tools that could not be found in shops – some of which were handmade by Diong’s late father.
And, through the course of the project, he discovered the importance of passing down knowledge from person to person. “That’s the only way the ‘spirit’ can live on. You can never replace a human element with a document.”
In the next month or so, Lim plans to bring the beca out around the city, particularly during KL Car Free Mornings. “People can ride it for a small fee. It will also be available for rent,” he said.
When he previously took the beca out for a test ride in Chinatown, many onlookers clapped and cheered. “It fulfilled a lot of nostalgia,” Lim added.

Moving forward, Lim hopes others will be inspired to recognise their family trades as unique and important, and to start documenting them.
Otherwise, “the oral narratives and spirit might be lost forever. We would not be bringing our heritage with us; we would be foregoing what our forefathers have built, in pursuit of new technologies and ideas”.
As for the dying art form of trishaw making? “The beca might be primitive but, to be uniquely Malaysian, this is where you start,” he said.
“The next generation is supposed to build upon it and innovate, instead of merely importing things. There’s where we’re losing out, by not continuing our legacy.”
For more information, including updates on the beca rides around KL, follow ‘Building the Beca’ on Facebook.