IT was certainly the news story of the week, and a really uplifting one.
There is so much toxicity there. Sometimes, I wonder if it is reflective of our country, but I want to convince myself that these narratives are politically manufactured, on thousands of fake accounts, ahead of elections.
Has this race and religious talk influenced our minds and perhaps made many of us more inclined to see one another through the narrow lenses of race and religion?
Even accidents can be turned into a race issue, as we pick our victims in the tragic cases.
Often, many forget that we live in a multiracial society and it is natural that incidents, including accidents or crime, can involve people of different races.
The narrative of polarisation has been repeated so often that it risks becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy.
And then, quietly and without fanfare, comes a story like that of motorcyclist Dicky Yau and “Abang minyak hitam jalanan”, an itinerant mechanic who repairs bikes that break down on the streets.
It was a small and ordinary incident. A motorist caught in a difficult situation on a late evening; his calls for a mechanic were ignored; he was short of cash and unsure how to settle a bill.
On the other side, a mechanic – the kind many Malaysians fondly refer to as “abang minyak hitam” – chose to accept his call and repaired his bike.
Mohd Yusof Mohamed Noor could have chosen to be transactional and maybe agitated but instead, he responded with understanding and trust, choosing compassion over convenience.
Abang Usop, as he is fondly known, refused to accept the payment for his service after realising how little money Yau had in his e-wallet.
At any other time, this might have remained a fleeting roadside encounter, quickly forgotten. But in today’s Malaysia, such moments carry a deeper resonance.
When the story surfaced, Malaysians did what they so often do when presented with genuine humanity: they rallied.
Suddenly, the usual negative tone of social media changed. Words of encouragement poured in with a sense of shared pride.
No one paused to dissect identities. No one demanded to know who belonged to which community.
For a brief but meaningful moment, Malaysians simply saw two individuals – one in need, and another who stepped up – and they responded as fellow human beings.
Online citizens shared stories of how the mechanic refused to accept donations and even offers of a motorcycle, and there were calls to support the halal-certified restaurant where Yau works.
It was beautiful. Beneath the political noises, generated mostly by politicians, paid cybertroopers and self-declared community heroes, we know there exists a quieter, more enduring, more forgiving Malaysia.
It is the Malaysia of everyday interactions: the stranger who helps push a stalled car in the rain, the hawker who adds a little extra to a meal, the neighbour who keeps an eye on your home when you are away.
These acts do not trend, nor are they politicised. These people are too busy trying to put food on the table, to pay the bills, send their kids to school, worry about their future, and focus on their work.
Ordinary Malaysians share more in common than what divides them. We all navigate the same daily routines. These are the ordinary Malaysians who form the social glue that has long held this country together.
We have built, quietly and consistently, through small acts of trust and kindness, at work places, in workshops, by roadsides, in markets, and coffee shops.
The reaction to Dicky Yau and Abang Usop reaffirms something fundamental about us. It reminds us that, at our core, Malaysians are still guided by a sense of decency, rationality, and fairness.
That when confronted with a genuine situation, we do not retreat into suspicion – we step forward with generosity.
What makes the story of Dicky Yau and Abang Usop particularly powerful is its authenticity.
It serves as a timely reminder that unity in Malaysia has never been manufactured through slogans or campaigns alone.
The mainstream media as well as influencers and ordinary people online can play their role by highlighting more of such stories that bring Malaysians together.
We need more such positive stories, and Malaysians will respond positively, too, as they did in the Dicky Yau and Abang Usop story.
It is a story that deserves to be told – and retold – as a reminder of who we are, and who we can continue to be.
National Journalism Laureate Datuk Seri Wong Chun Wai is the chairman of Bernama. The views expressed here are solely his own.
Wong Chun Wai
Wong Chun Wai began his career as a journalist in Penang, and has served The Star for over 35 years in various capacities and roles. He is now group editorial and corporate affairs adviser to the group, after having served as group managing director/chief executive officer. On The Beat made its debut on Feb 23 1997 and Chun Wai has penned the column weekly without a break, except for the occasional press holiday when the paper was not published. In May 2011, a compilation of selected articles of On The Beat was published as a book and launched in conjunction with his 50th birthday. Chun Wai also comments on current issues in The Star.
