Sheds that heal: Why Malaysia should adopt this Aussie idea for retired men

New Straits Times

7 days ago

ON a crisp, sunny winter morning in Sydney's Kenthurst countryside, my friend Mahendran — a Malaysian who has made Australia his home — pulled me from the comfort of my warm bed with the enticing promise of breakfast.
As we drove through gently rolling paddocks bathed in the golden light of the rising sun, the cool breeze carried the fresh, invigorating scent of eucalyptus into the car.
Yet, little did I know that the true highlight of the day awaited us was not at the breakfast table, but inside a modest, unassuming building known as the Kenthurst Men's Shed — a place that holds profound lessons for Malaysia's senior citizens.
The Men's Shed at Kenthurst might appear simple from the outside, but stepping inside reveals a hive of quiet, purposeful activity. The walls are lined with pegboards and shelves meticulously organised with an array of tools — hammers, chisels, screwdrivers, clamps — and power tools like drills, sanders and saws, all well cared for and ready for use.
A long wooden workbench, its surface marked by years of diligent work, stretches along one wall, surrounded by boxes of nails, screws and bolts. The air is rich with the familiar scent of sawdust and paint, a fragrant testament to the creativity and craftsmanship that come alive here every day.
As I ventured further, I was warmly greeted by Billy, a man with a bushy silver beard and a bright blue jacket, whose friendly smile immediately set the tone for the visit. Billy, a regular here, welcomed both Mahendran and me like old friends.
The atmosphere was open and inclusive, a sanctuary where men from all walks of life gather. My eyes roamed over the tools and projects scattered about — a scene reminiscent of a well-stocked hardware shop, yet infused with the spirit of collaboration and purpose.
At the centre stood a heavy wooden table, strewn with cut wood and metal pieces, alongside miniature trucks in various stages of assembly, each crafted by these industrious men.
We soon met John Somers — the driving force behind many of the shed's projects. Despite nearing 75, John's hands were steady and agile, his eyes sharp with focus and enthusiasm. He proudly showed us a truck leaf spring he was preparing to mount on a newly invented chassis.
His dream? To restore a World War II 2 jeep to its former glory. His passion was infectious, his knowledge deep, and his energy defied his years, embodying the spirit of purpose that the shed fosters.
Nearby, another John — one of three Johns in the shed — was engrossed in shaping a wooden vase. Beside him, a precision machine whirred softly as it crafted, cut and smoothed the camphor laurel wood, releasing a fresh, aromatic fragrance into the air.
Billy joined us to demonstrate the workings of the machine and proudly displayed a collection of chisels; each sharpened to perfection for a specific task.
John's teaching was patient and passionate; he even let me hold the rapidly spinning sharpening tool, guiding me carefully on how to shape wood artistically. This moment of hands-on learning embodied the shed's essence: a place where skills are shared freely and creativity is nurtured.
As if the morning couldn't get any warmer, Billy fashioned a small spinning top from leftover timber and gifted it to me for my newborn grandson, who had just arrived a week earlier.
This simple act of generosity spoke volumes about the community spirit thriving within these walls — a spirit of kindness, connection, and shared joy.
HUB OF WARMTH AND CAMARADERIE
The shed's pantry area was alive with warmth — not just from the steaming kettle but also from the lively spirit of the men gathered there. Around a large pitcher of boiling water, the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the gentle scent of tea.
Plates of homemade cakes, golden and still slightly warm, beckoned invitingly. Mahendran and I joined the group, quickly enveloped by the cheerful chatter, laughter, and easy camaraderie that filled the space.
It was inspiring to witness men of all ages and backgrounds come together, united by a shared purpose. Some arrived clutching rolled blueprints, others carrying toolboxes, each intent on a personal or community project.
Whether it was intricate carpentry, precision metalwork, repairing a beloved grass-cutting machine, or crafting elegant TV cabinets and vases from fine timber, the shed hummed with the energy of minds and hands at work.
This was a place where creativity flourished, and craftsmanship was celebrated. John Somers, John and Billy — faces alight with friendship — explained that the shed was far more than a workshop. It was a sanctuary where honest conversations and shared tasks forged deep bonds.
As they handled saws, hammers, chisels and heavy machinery, they also opened up about their worries, triumphs and everyday concerns. The rhythmic clatter of tools and the scent of sawdust formed the backdrop for stories exchanged, burdens lightened, and support freely given — a vivid testament to the power of community and connection.
WHY MALAYSIA'S SENIOR CITIZENS CAN LEARN FROM THE MEN'S SHED
The Men's Shed movement is much more than a place to tinker with tools. It is a lifeline for many men who, as they age, face isolation, loneliness, and a loss of identity.
The shed offers a safe, welcoming environment where men can find purpose, connection and belonging. It is a space where they can contribute, learn new skills and share their expertise without judgment or pressure.
In Malaysia, cultural expectations often teach men to suppress emotions and endure hardships silently. This can lead to poor mental and physical health, especially after retirement, when many men feel sidelined and useless.
The Men's Shed model presents a powerful antidote to this silent suffering. Imagine if every local authority in Malaysia embraced this concept. Retired men, often perceived as redundant, would have a place to gather, to share their skills, to learn and to feel valued once again.
They could engage in community projects, mentor younger generations, or simply enjoy the companionship of peers. The benefits would be profound: improved mental and physical health, stronger social networks, and a renewed sense of purpose and dignity for our elders.
HOW TO BRING MEN'S SHEDS TO MALAYSIA
Starting a Men's Shed is straightforward. It requires only a suitable space — a community hall, a vacant shop lot or even a garage — and a group of interested men. Tools and materials can be donated or sourced from local businesses. But the most vital ingredient is the spirit of camaraderie and mutual respect. Local authorities can play a crucial role by providing support, funding and promotion.
Schools, religious organisations and community groups can help spread the word and recruit members. The goal is to create safe, inclusive environments where men of all ages and backgrounds can come together, share and grow.
TRANSFORMATIVE IMPACT
In Australia, the Men's Shed movement has become one of the most effective tools for enhancing men's health and well-being. It tackles loneliness, fosters social connection, and empowers men to lead active, fulfilling lives.
This model has proven its worth time and again. Malaysia stands at a crossroads. By adopting this inspiring initiative, we can transform the lives of our elderly men — and indeed, all men — helping them to remain valued, productive members of society.
We can build communities where no man is left behind, and where every elder find purpose, friendship and joy. The Kenthurst Men's Shed taught me that the true treasure lies not in the tools or projects, but in the bonds forged and the spirits lifted.
It is time for Malaysia to embrace this vision. Let us not wait any longer. Let us give our men the opportunity to belong, to create and to thrive — building a future enriched by the wisdom and vitality of our seniors.