This post is about Life

This post has 6 comments

The time was 5:30 AM. The sky was pitch black.

I was driving on the North South Expressway together with my mom and 3 other younger brothers and sister.

We had to reach Bidor by 7 AM to meet up with other family members to visit our ancestors’ graves.

It was dark. The only light source on the road was the light from my car’s headlamps.

Suddenly, I saw a shadow in the middle of the road. It was a man standing not far away waving his both hands at me.

I slow down and stop my car by the roadside. I rolled down the passenger seat’s window and the man came nearer.

“Bang, boleh tolongkah bang…” he was an Indian guy asking for help. He pointed somewhere not far away and there was his motorcycle, still standing, and another guy lying on the floor.

I drove nearer and it looks like the accident just happened not long ago. The guy lying on the floor had his entire right arm’s muscle split off and there was blood everywhere.

“Sudah panggil ambulance?” I asked.

“Baru accident sajalah bang,” he replied.

So I took out my phone and called Plusline to ask for help (it’s 1800-88-0000, just in case you didn’t know).

“Selamat pagi encik. Apa saya boleh bantu?” A guy answered the phone.

“Selamat pagi, sini ada satu accident dekat km 225 ke arah selatan. Boleh hantar bantuan dan ambulance?”

The guy made some arrangements over the phone and hung up.

“I sudah panggil bantuan, you tungu sekejap ya,” I told that Indian guy.

“Tolonglah bang, sila tolonglah, kita semua orang Malaysia kan?”

His hands (with blood) already half entered the car through the window.

“Ya ya I sudah panggil ambulance, you tunggu sekejap.”

“Tolonglah, dia tu sangat sakit tau, you mesti kena tolonglah, 1Malaysia kan?”

Wow! 1Malaysia some more! I really didn’t know what he was expecting me to do.

“I tak boleh buat apa-apa lagi. I sudah panggil ambulance, nanti ambulance akan datang.”

I turned around and asked my mom, “should we go down to take a look?” My mom said we should leave because there’s nothing more we could do plus we were rushing time.

So I told the guy to hang in there and slowly drove off while seeing him getting further and further away and finally disappeared in the rear mirror.

Okay, I pity him really. He might be in great trauma. But you should know why none of us went down to help. Firstly, it could be a trap. They get us down the car before they rob us or something. Secondly, I really didn’t know what else to do other than calling for ambulance.

But one thing I must tell you that the blood and wound don’t look fake. If they were fake, they could simply beat those professional makeup artists in Hollywood.

If you were in this situation, what would you do? Go down to help (for the name of 1Malaysia) or stay in the car, or maybe just drive away don’t stop at all?


This post is about Life

This post has 6 comments

CommentNo. 1

Ervin Ter28 March 201010:59 PM

Of coz dont go down no matter anyhow. You already very good willing to phone to help him. If I were you, I wont stop my car at all.

CommentNo. 2

Ted28 March 201011:50 PM

it may look selfish but it’s for ure own safety and interest and what you did was right at that time. so no worries, you did make a difference!

CommentNo. 3

Swee Ping29 March 20101:11 AM

my first instinct? stop and help.

but for safety reason, i may be selfish and listen to the brain: call for help but remain in my car. especially if im alone.

CommentNo. 4

smashpOp29 March 201010:52 AM

i would do the same as u. stay in the car. call ambulance

CommentNo. 5

wong29 March 201011:10 PM

Nothing you can do… Correct! The call is the only thing.

I encountered thing like this also, but we drove the taxi driver to police station in the end, happen in putrajaya highway at around 2am.

I’m sure the Indian is dissapointed at you and at 1Malaysia also. LOL!

Well, he might be in trauma already, since keep saying tolong instead of, how to tolong…

CommentNo. 6

Clive31 March 201012:56 PM

yeah u did the right decision, if not the ending of this post will be different.

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