THE FACTORY WHERE DREAMS OF SILVER AND GOLD ARE MADE REAL
Inside a humble Sharjah building, gold and silversmiths create precious heirlooms, writes Anna Zacharias
The winter wedding season is here, and the glittering souqs of Dubai and Sharjah are filled with prospective brides and future in-laws selecting the best pieces of jewellery for the wedding day and dowry.
Many of the sparkling necklaces and bangles destined for slender necks and henna-stained arms come from a neighbourhood of faded low-rise concrete buildings off Sharjah’s Al Mareija Street.
In this unassuming quarter of tailor shops and South Indian restaurants, a plate of rice and fish curry costs Dh5.
Every so often, the pavement is blocked by a cluster of sandals strewn outside the doors of goldsmiths’ shops.
Al Baroon Gold Factory is one of scores in Al Mareija Street, not far from Sharjah’s famed central market gold souq and a wharf where dhow captains once carried gold from the Trucial States across the ocean to India and Pakistan.
In a humble, concrete, three-storey building, gold wholesalers from the Gulf’s best-known jewellery brands come and go with plastic bags of silver and gold. They are here for Faisal Chakkala, the managing partner, who has steadily built the workshop’s reputation since his arrival from Kerala in 1993.
Mr Chakkala’s uncle, Abdul Jabbar, founded Al Baroon in 1988 after launching a successful textile business in Dammam, Saudi Arabia. Abdul Jabbar never lived in the Gulf, moving between Dammam, Sharjah and Kerala.
When Mr Chakkala came to Sharjah in 1993, he was unsure about making it permanent.
“At that time I thought just to come and see if Sharjah is any good,” he says. “Everything was very cheap and the best. Silent, no traffic jams.”
He knew little about gold, but soon earned the traders’ trust.
“He’s well connected,” says an American jeweller for one of the Gulf’s largest brands. “He became known in the street and he offers many services– manufacturing, repair, design. He’s one of the top ones here.”
Majid Yasser, 29, a Yemeni at Al Rumaiza Gold and Jewellery, has also relied on Mr Chakkala for years.
“Their work is good. Just try other shops. This one is No 1,” Mr Yasser says.
While Mr Chakkala meets traders, nine men are at work in the back room, skilfully crafting gold and silver into treasured heirlooms.
Each smith works at a desk cluttered with pliers and tweezers, hammers the size of pencils, clay cups for molten gold and cups of tea for sustenance.
The smiths peer through spectacles, each at work on a different item. One fastens silver bands on to a cane, one polishes a baby’s spoon, one bends red-hot gold strips into bangles, and another fastens diamonds on to a ring.
A Malayalam radio station plays over the din of hammering and hiss of welding torches.
Above them on a low-ceilinged mezzanine, are three more workers including Michalle Mamo, an Ethiopian silversmith of renown in Sharjah’s free zone and was recruited by Mr Chakkala four years ago. The wooden floor shakes every time his hammer comes down.
Mr Mamo began as an apprentice to his father when he was about 14. African jewellery is a growing business in the Gulf, and Al Baroon began producing Ethiopian, Sudanese and Somalian jewellery 20 years ago.
Ethiopians and Somalis carry Mr Mamo’s work abroad after buying it in Sharjah and Dubai souqs. “Heavy items and big, big items,” Mr Chakkala says.
But Mr Mamo’s specialities are delicate filigree crosses and finely layered bridal pendants.
When Mr Chakkala arrived, traditional Arabic jewellery was the fashion – dangling mortasha necklaces of discs and abu showk, a bangle of thick spikes. Today, it’s all white gold and diamonds.
“You know, lightweight design,” Mr Chakkala says. “Now, people don’t like the heavy things. Every two or three years the fashion is changing.”
Gold sales hit a 19-year low last year because of the drop in oil prices, falling salaries and more conservative spending by tourists. That, and because millennials just do not have the same love for gold as generations past.
But a bride is not a bride without some sparkle and Al Baroon’s business is as good as ever, Mr Chakkala says. “Alhamdulillah.”
He believes the number of workshops is growing.
The secret to success in the jewellery business? “Truthfulness,” Mr Chakkala says. “Everything is true. You know, correct. Perfection.”
Now, people don’t like the heavy things. Every two or three years the fashion is changing FAISAL CHAKKALA Managing partner at Al Baroon Gold Factory