Waiting for the doorbell: The determination behind Kuching’s blind massage centre

MORNINGS at the centre in Kuching do not begin with sight, but with familiar sounds.

Towels are unfolded carefully, bottles are placed back in their usual spots, and greetings move easily across the room as voices recognise one another instantly.

At the entrance, the doorbell rings, meaning someone has arrived.

For Azizie Suip, 43, that sound carries weight – each ring means work for his team.

He does not look towards the door – he listens instead to the sound of it being opened, the direction of footsteps, and the first greeting.

He has memorised the layout of the centre, moving confidently through a space that he is unable to see.

Waiting in readiness

Inside the AZ Blind Massage Centre, nine other visually-impaired therapists are all prepared for the day.

The team reflects the different journeys of its members – some have been blind since birth; others lost their sight later in life.

David Ayom, 44, became visually impaired at 38.

Hazel Sigang Daud, 46, has been totally blind since she was 29.

Nur Azreen Azirah, 30, began losing her vision at 20, while Bruno Dawi, 32, has been totally blind since the age of 12.

Muhammad Jeffery Bujang Man, Noor Kalsum Fadil, Andy Law Sie Hui and Azzoenickry Gajud have known Azizie since primary school at a special school in Batu Lintang.

They were in the same classroom, learned the same routines, and adjusted to the same challenges.

Over the years, they have gone through many ups and downs together.

“We’ve known each other for a very long time,” says Azizie.

“We went through a lot together.”

When they later decided to start working together, it did not feel like a risk taken with strangers.

Azizie founded the massage centre in 2018.

The decision was practical as job opportunities for the visually-impaired individuals were limited, and securing work that matched their abilities was not easy.

Massage therapy became one of the few realistic options available to them.

Right from the beginning, Azizie has always felt responsible.

“As a boss, I feel responsible. Their income depends on how often that doorbell rings.”

Then the Covid-19 pandemic forced the centre’s closure, which went on for several years.

When they resumed operations in 2022, they had to rebuild their routine and customer base from scratch.

By the time the centre reopened, the landscape had changed.

There were more massage centres in Kuching, some were larger and better-renovated.

Some customers were drawn to places that looked more modern or luxurious.

At the same time, some old assumptions about blind therapists were still prevalent.

“Many people thought blind therapists were not skilled or not certified; some assumed that our place was not clean, or was not good,” recalls Azizie.

Work after sundown

On slower days, there have been only one walk-in – sometimes, there is none at all.

By closing time, the room often remains exactly as it had been prepared earlier in the morning.

To supplement their income, the team brings their services to the Metrocity Commercial Centre night market.

They set up their place amongst food and other small trading stalls, relying on passers-by to stop by and go for a massage.

On good evenings, business can be decent. When it rains, the crowd starts to thin out, and they pack up early.

After midnight, e-hailing fares increase; thus, getting a ride home is not always simple.

Sometimes they have to stand by the road waiting for an e-hailing ride, which more often than not takes longer than expected.

“These things are inconvenient for us, especially when it is late and we are trying to get home,” says Azizie.

For him and his team, the work is more than just about earning; it is about holding on to a sense of independence.

Individual stories

Still, independence means different things to different people in the room – some have never known sight, while others still carry on their memories of what it was like to see.

David is among those who remember.

Before his vision faded, blindness had belonged to someone else’s world, not his.

“I was apart from this community before. I never thought about blind people,” he admits.

When his sight began to deteriorate due to Stargardt disease, the change was gradual but relentless.

He could no longer read because the words became harder to recognise.

Later on, everything around him became blurred.

Eventually, he lost his job.

“I felt like I went through hell,” he recounts.

“I became jobless. I couldn’t read because I couldn’t see. I had to depend on people’s mercy.”

For someone who had once managed his routine without hesitation, relying on others was difficult to accept for David.

The independence that he had taken for granted suddenly felt fragile.

Over time, he found support within the blind community.

Others who had experienced similar transitions guided him through practical adjustments and daily skills.

The support helped him rebuild his confidence, and eventually, he joined Azizie’s team at the centre, where he began earning again.

Hazel’s journey was different, but no less challenging.

She became totally blind at age 29.

“The early stage was very tough. I felt very sad.”

To her, losing sight meant relearning ordinary routines.

Moving around familiar places felt unfamiliar.

Crossing roads required courage, and depending on others became unavoidable.

“People think totally-blind people see darkness, but it’s not darkness.

“It’s not black – it’s just nothing.”

The adjustment did not happen all at once.

Hazel learned gradually, step by step, until what once felt overwhelming became manageable.

‘Ability never a problem’

Azizie says as far as his team is concerned, the problem is not ability. There is education in the room, as there are discipline and experience.

“Many of us are educated. We are blind, but we are not stupid. Despite us not having clear eyesight, we are physically able.”

For many members of this community, massage therapy becomes one of the few practical paths available.

However, their abilities extend beyond the centre.

Outside of work, several members have represented the state in Para Malaysia Games (Sukma).

Azizie himself competed in lawn bowl, as did Hazel; Muhammad Jeffery and Azzoenickry were ten-pin bowlers; Noor Kalsum was active in athletics; and Nur Azreen played lawn bowl too.

The focus, consistency and resilience developed through sports are the same qualities that they bring to work every day.

“These qualities are also what keeps them going,” says Azizie.

“Being blind, indeed, makes full independence difficult, but I never not see it as something that belongs only to us.

“All humans will feel disabled one day… through sickness, or old age.”

The next morning, the AZ Blind Massage Centre opens as usual.

Towels are folded. Therapy oils are arranged.

Azizie and his team, all equipped and ready, now wait for the doorbell to ring – hoping for a busy day.