The Stories Behind: The one-eyed tattoo artist who won’t let a rare disease affect his craft

SINGAPORE — Back in my junior college days, I developed an interest in journalism after watching The Post, a documentary-thriller about Washington Post journalists’ difficult quest to publish classified documents in the 1970s.
I believed that I could thrive in the role as I was interested in current affairs and had a passion for storytelling.  
So when I shared my goal of becoming a journalist with my friends and family, I felt indignant when they reacted with scepticism and comments putting down my dream.
“You’re too quiet for that sort of job.”
“You need to be an extrovert to be a journalist.”
These were just some of the comments I got, all pointing to my introverted nature.
It sparked a sense of defiance in me. Many years later, I joined the media industry.
These memories flooded back to me during my interview last week with Mr Mohamed Tirana Mohamed Sufian at his tattoo studio, Tirana Tattooing, located in Parklane Shopping Mall along Selegie Road.
Due to the visual impairment in his right eye, the 30-year-old also had his fair share of naysayers and concerned relatives who doubted his ability to realise his aspirations in the field of art and design.
He was born with Coats disease, a congenital eye disorder due to the abnormal development of blood vessels in the retina. This meant that Mr Tirana has been blind in his right eye since birth.
Over the past three decades, the threat of permanent blindness in both eyes has been like the sword of Damocles hanging over his head that could derail his life plans.
However, his story is not one defined by his condition or the preconceived notions that others have because of the eyepatch he wears daily.
It is about how he has dedicated his life to overcoming personal obstacles, blocking out the noise and following his own heart.
When Mr Tirana was born in 1994, his mother first noticed that something was wrong when she saw a photograph of her infant son, in which one of his eyes reflected a white glow instead of the typical red-eye effect — one that occurs when light from the camera flash reflects off the retina’s healthy blood vessels.
Concerned by the unusual reflection, she took him for an eye examination. It was then that Mr Tirana was diagnosed with Coats disease in his right eye.
This meant that he could only see out of his left eye, which was unaffected. Nevertheless, his doctor warned that there was still a risk of Coats disease developing in it, too.
In school, he faced a different risk when he was bullied for his appearance. His right eye would often wander due to his visual impairment and classmates would tease him for looking “weird”, often leaving him out of activities.
Despite the bullying, Mr Tirana used the hurtful comments as motivation to prove that he could excel even with his condition. On the football field, he pushed himself harder, determined to prove to others that his visual impairment did not limit his potential. 
“It turned into a point to prove: I may be blind, I may look weird, but I can still do stuff better than you. You have two (eyes), but I still beat you in football. That became a motivating factor for me,” he said.
“I think it was good I got bullied because it shaped me into the person I am today. If it wasn’t for that kind of experience as a kid, I wouldn’t be here today.”
After graduating from Singapore Polytechnic with a diploma in electrical and electronic engineering in 2013, Mr Tirana’s journey took a different turn. 
At the time, the then-teenager had a keen interest in graphic design.
Perhaps it was the possibility of permanent blindness that boosted his appreciation for the arts, or there were other reasons, but Mr Tirana had quietly nurtured a passion in visual arts while pursuing a conventional education path in engineering.
While dabbling in graphic design on the side, his talent caught the attention of a tattoo artist and he was presented with the opportunity to become a tattoo apprentice.
“I’d never thought of becoming a tattoo artist because the first tattoo I got at 15, it hurt like hell. But when I was scouted, I thought, ‘Why not? Just try it’, because I prefer doing art. So it really was a leap of faith,” he said.
The decision to enter the tattoo industry was not an easy decision to make, especially when faced with disapproval from his family. For years, they rejected his career choice, causing a strain in their relationship.
The apprenticeship itself was also far from smooth.
His mentor was tough on him — frequently reprimanding him and making him wipe the studio walls and clean up every day so that he could build the resilience to withstand the demands of the industry.
Coupled with the fact that he was serving National Service (NS) while being an apprentice, Mr Tirana said that the physical and emotional toll weighed on him and he admitted that there were numerous occasions when he contemplated walking away from it all.
“My family (disapproved), I had my NS and I was still getting scolded at the (studio). There were a few times when I broke down, thinking, ‘All of this happened because I decided to go into tattooing. So if I left, would everything go back to normal?’”
In the end, he convinced himself to persevere and reminded himself that mastering a craft he loved would be worth every sacrifice.
“I wanted to stay. I told myself that it’s going to be worth it one day. I want to be a professional artist in this industry. And so I continued.”
Since some tattoos required more attention to detail for more intricate designs, Mr Tirana said that it took him a while to master precision control due to his visual impairment. 
With the help of his mentor who recommended clients to him as well as friends who agreed to allow him to use their skin as practice, Mr Tirana started to grow his portfolio and make a name for himself in the industry.
More than just perfecting his skills, though, he said that learning how to communicate well with his clients was a skill that his profession has required him to hone over the years.
“Back then, I was very isolated and awkward, I didn’t really mix with people. Jumping into this job, you have to converse and make friends.
“In this line of work, you meet all kinds of people, so you have to be able to talk to them and make them feel good while getting their tattoo done,” he added.
This hard-earned confidence in his craft is now leading him to an exciting new chapter: Next month, Mr Tirana and his team will be competing at a world tattoo convention in Malacca, Malaysia.
While everything seems to be smooth sailing for Mr Tirana now, the possibility of losing his vision permanently still hangs over his head like a dark cloud.
During a recent check-up, he was told by his doctor that he now has a 70 to 80 per cent chance of the condition affecting his left eye as well. 
When I asked if he feared the prospect of total vision loss, his calm, matter-of-fact response deepened my admiration for him: “Yes, it’s quite scary. It’s something that is (always) on my mind but I think for now, I’m just living life fully, trying not to worry about that.
“Just do the best that I can now, while I still can do it.”
Although some people might say that Mr Tirana takes a laissez-faire attitude towards his condition, what stood out the most for me is his determination to confront his naysayers, disregard their judgements and focus on enjoying the present moment.
He does not let others’ opinions or his condition dictate his path and instead, embraces life fully.
Listening to him, his resilience and authenticity struck me deeply, and I was glad to have met him.
I felt validated, and his experience reminded me of how the comments I received in my own youth stiffened my resolve to prove others wrong.
Beyond that, I aspire to adopt a similar mindset as Mr Tirana — to live boldly, remain true to oneself, and not be swayed by external doubts.