By the way ... Sometimes the wheels don’t follow the will

It’s blue and dirty and has only a 100 cc engine. It’s one of the best-selling types of Japanese motorcycle in the country.

This motorbike has been my companion for a few years. It has witnessed numerous traffic accidents, few of which were fatal. I have always tried to help the casualties whenever I could, leaving aside who was innocent and who was to blame.

Becoming involved in settling accidents came with compassion and there are sometimes lessons worth learning. Let me share one. One day, on my way to work, I was among dozens of two-wheel drivers who were anxiously trailing behind a big and very slow truck-trailer in a narrow street in East Jakarta.

I had no space to overtake the big vehicle so I had to deal with the truck’s dark exhaust smoke pouring into my helmet for some minutes.

All of a sudden, I heard cracks from above and a second later I saw a black wire swinging fast toward me. By reflex, I ducked just in time.

Later I realized it was an electricity cable strung across the street that had just been struck by the trailer’s roof. It had lost some brackets but, thank God, it was not cut and everybody was safe from possible electric shock.

Unfortunately, a motorcyclist on my left side did not react quickly enough. His neck was hooked on the wire, pulling him off his bike. I glimpsed his helmet coming off and his face hitting the asphalt.

His motorbike collided with a few other motorists behind. They were so close that many failed to avoid the accident. Thankfully, I was not among them.

The first thought popping into my mind told me to stop and help the victim, just like I usually do. But at that moment I told myself, “There are already many helpers but no one seems willing to catch the truck and make the driver responsible.”

I convinced myself that catching the truck driver would also be a form of solidarity. I accelerated and suddenly became fearless enough to pass the truck whose driver seemed to be unaware of the accident.

I hit the horn repeatedly and, like a policeman, ordered the truck to pull over.

I explained what had happened. “You need get out of your vehicle and go to the victim. Take responsibility if you are really sorry,” I told the driver.

I parked my bike and accompanied the driver and his assistant back to the accident site. Dozens of people were already swarming, some of whom were obviously furious.

“Look at me, what am I going to do?” asked a man with bleeding head and arm. He was the motorcyclist who had been caught on the wire.

As he explained the damage to his motorcycle, a few others shouted, “My bike was also damaged because of you.” Those claiming to be “derivative victims” became threatening, pointing fingers at the truck driver and demanding compensation.

However recalling the moment of the accident, I didn’t think there had been that many victims. I was eventually convinced that some were faking it after a man tapped my shoulder and said, “This gentleman’s bike has also been damaged.”

“No, it was not. I’m ok,” I replied.

“Of course you are not ok, Pak. You were also hit, weren’t you?” the man told me while making strange facial gestures.

I felt sorry to the truck driver. He had clearly become the subject of extortion by people who were taking advantage of others’ misery.

Unfortunately, I could not stay any longer as I had an important appointment.

“I didn’t think that this would happen. I appreciate your good deed and I hope it will help you settle this problem,” I whispered to the driver who still looked a bit frightened.

As I continued my journey, I kept thinking about what I had just done. Should I have just helped the victim and let the truck go? Or should I have just ignored my appointment and stayed there to let everybody know what had really happened?

— Bagus BT Saragih