My last interview with Dinda and Isra from Kampung Kollektief eventually led me to Karasa BDG, a creative collective borned in the alleyways of Gempolsari, Bandung, West Java. From their reference, I arranged an online interview in July 2025 with Abdul Qodir—or Kang Qodir—the founder and creative director of Karasa BDG. We discussed his vision and works: how graphic design could transform not just individual lives, but an entire kampung. His thoughts on enabling emergent strategy through design education for youth fascinated me. Could graphic design truly become an urban design strategy—one powerful enough to spark a grassroots movement?
Before we ended the online meeting, I asked whether I could visit Gempolsari once I returned to Indonesia.
“Yeah! Of course, you are welcome! We’ll have some members of Karasa to show you around,” he replied warmly. “We always love having people. All researchers, academicians, we love to have let them learn from our village.”
And so, I did.
The Arrival in Gempolsari
After completing my third intervention in Cipadu, I took the fast train from Jakarta to Bandung the following week. The contrast was striking: intercity transport had become so advanced between the two metropolitan hubs, yet both Cipadu and Gempolsari still wrestled with the same umbrella problem—socio-ecological challenges—though they advanced in different ways. Even amidst technological progress, the social transitions in these kampungs often remained hindered.
The train pulled into Bandung in just under an hour. Kang Qodir had a meeting later that day, so I headed straight for Gempolsari. The road narrowed after several intersections, leading me into the dense alleyways typical of urban kampungs. Yet one thing immediately stood out: Gempolsari was cleaner and livelier, with colorful murals brightening nearly every block.
Following Kang Qodir’s text, I asked locals where the head of the RW (Rukun Warga or District) lived. Everyone seemed to know exactly where to direct me. A lady pointed me toward a corner house, Kang Qodir’s house. Clearly, he was a familiar figure in this neighbourhood.
I didn’t even need to knock. As I greeted him with a Salaam, he was already waiting by the open door, smiling. “Welcome!” he said, radiating warmth. Beside him stood a young man. “This is Wendi, one of Karasa’s members. He’ll show you around.”
Before heading out, we sat together in conversation. Kang Qodir explained how his home also doubled as a drawing course for children and a gathering spot for Karasa members. His openness was striking, it felt less like I was being welcomed not as a guest, and more like I was being invited in as a student eager to learn.
How It All Began
Wendi began our tour with the story of how Karasa BDG started. Kang Qodir, once insecure about living in Gempolsari—then notorious for youth gangs and crime—decided to paint the kampung’s gapura (entrance gate). Kids quickly gathered around, joining him with brushes in hand. That small act grew into regular drawing classes.
“He realized the kids loved it,” Wendi said, pointing to the now-iconic gapura where it all began. “So he started teaching drawing, and later, graphic design.”
From this story, it became clear: Kang Qodir wasn’t just an artist. He was a community leader with contagious energy, someone who turned vulnerability into possibility. Like a dandelion spreading seeds, he planted positivity that began to take root across the kampung (Brown, 2017).
Aruaksa Festival
Wendi then recounted their September 2025 festival, “Aruaksa,” initiated by Karasa BDG’s youth members. “It started as a graduation project,” he said. “We didn’t just want classes, we wanted to showcase what we had learned.”
The festival became more than an exhibition. It redefined what was “cool” for Gempolsari’s youth. Rather than gangs, fights, or risky behaviour, creativity became the badge of pride. Through drawing and design, Kang Qodir created not just skills, but new behaviours—redirecting youthful energy toward collective pride and social good.
And because Bandung was under a “waste emergency,” the festival also wove in sustainability themes, linking art with environmental responsibility.
BrandGang: Reclaiming the Alleys
One of Karasa BDG’s boldest initiatives was “BrandGang” a play on words rebranding the narrow alleys (gang) by transforming them into communal, creative spaces. Originally, these branhang/brandgang—a Dutch term referring to small back alleys or emergency exit passageways designed during the Dutch colonial era—had been neglected or misused as dumping sites or even privatized by residents. Over time, what was once a functional urban feature had become a source of environmental and social problems.
Karasa reimagined these spaces as vibrant canvases. The approach was simple yet powerful: invite both expert designers and community members to collaborate. Almost 60 volunteers showed up, not for pay, but for purpose. They used recycled materials, local creativity, and most importantly, people’s willingness to contribute.
The results were striking: eleven alleyways transformed into colorful public spaces. Crime rates dropped, neighbors became more mindful of waste, and a stronger sense of gotong royong emerged. While not everyone agreed, some resisted having their houses painted—the growing solidarity helped Karasa navigate conflicts, persuading even skeptics over time.
Eventually, even the local government took notice, funding more pedestrian projects and inviting tourism into Gempolsari. Pride in the kampung soared.
Lessons and Limitations
Back at his house, I asked Kang Qodir the inevitable question:
“How did you do it?”
He laughed. “It doesn’t happen overnight. And never underestimate the power of youth, they are the ones who move the community.”
But youth empowerment also has its limits. As young members grow older and pursue careers, they may leave. To address this, Karasa continues to recruit younger generations through art, sports, and play, while encouraging older members to mentor the new. The challenge now lies in sustaining leadership beyond Kang Qodir himself, nurturing more local leaders who can carry the same spirit forward.
Cipadu and Gempolsari: Twin Sisters Separated by a Train
Both Cipadu and Gempolsari face deep socio-ecological challenges, but their trajectories differ. In Jakarta’s kampungs like Cipadu, systemic barriers—thuggery, bureaucratic hurdles, and fragmented leadership—often block grassroots initiatives. In Gempolsari, the relative absence of such pressures allowed Karasa’s vision to flourish more smoothly.
The contrast is revealing. Empowerment is not just about skills—it’s about agency. In Gempolsari, co-design and shared decision-making gave residents ownership. In Cipadu, by contrast, many residents assumed someone else would clean their rubbish, reflecting a learned dependency rather than collective responsibility.
Conclusion
Kang Qodir is living proof that positivity can ripple outward, transforming not just individuals, but entire communities.
“His energy makes us move,” Wendi told me as we walked. “Kang Qodir is never tired.”
Everything we touch, touches us back. Through Karasa BDG, kindness itself has been designed into a form of creative empowerment. And perhaps, just perhaps, that is the new cool.
Leave a Reply