I had to ask, why me?  Within a space of two weeks, my car was ‘assaulted’ twice. The first Tuesday, a motorcyclist scratched the side of my car with his pannier after I had actually made space to let him ride past. The chock-a-block traffic and uselessness of the situation put paid to my fleeting thought of giving chase. The second Tuesday, my car was rear-ended. I was in a near standstill traffic so the impact caught me by surprise. It threw me forward and caused my bumper to crack lengthwise. The upside, yes there is always an upside, was the crumpled bumper saved me from any serious injury.  The accident happened at rush hour when no one had the opportunity to rush anywhere. Three cars were involved; my car, the vehicle that bumped into me, and another that rear-ended my immediate ‘assailant.’

Once I established that no one was hurt, the practicalities settled in. I knew I had tedious procedural tasks ahead of me.  I googled the what-to-do’s.  Police report (procedure, time), insurance claim (procedure, time) and repairs (procedure and more time).  A police report had to be made within 24 hours. I did. That was a two-step process. An officer recorded my statement of the event. Then I met with a sergeant, who sort of verified the statement. I then returned to the police station to collect a copy of the report that I had made two days earlier.  I was then instructed to return to the same police station to obtain the official police result 14 days later, which I did. Three visits to the police station.

My primary concern with my insurance claim was how it would affect my Non-Claims Discount (NCD), particularly as it was not my fault. It didn’t. It was a claim against the driver at fault. In this case it was the driver of the third car who was responsible, and not the one who actually thumped my bumper. No visits were required as all queries and information were communicated via WhatsApp.

I made four visits to the workshop. To deliver the original police report and result in person and for photos to be taken of the dented bumper, to be present for the insurance adjuster to snap his photos of the same dented bumper, to drop off and collect my car after the repairs were completed. And then, because the photos taken by the workshop people were the wrong angle of the repaired bumper, I was requested to make another visit. The correct photo had to comprise my car’s new bumper with the workshop in the background as proof of services rendered. Visit number five is still pending.

Admittedly, I was on a moan-mode on the day I had my second accident. My car was first sideswiped and then rear-ended. I felt hard done by and despondent when I contemplated the people and processes I had to deal with to get my bumper repaired. The negative attitude dissipated somewhat when my sister, who was visiting from Australia, related her car woes to me. Apart from scratches on both sides, courtesy of various sundry drivers, her car was broken into by a vandal and rear-ended by a courier van – all while safely tucked away in her designated parking bay, located in front of her walk-up apartment. I was not alone…

I rewound to when my husband’s new one-day old car’s front bumper was dented at a parking lot while he attended a meeting. That was a heart sinking moment. My brother had his car wing mirror broken by a motorcyclist, who just couldn’t wait for enough clearance space to ride past. The irony was that the motorcyclist got upset and gestured rude signs when my brother got out of the car to inspect the damage.

I also remembered two unfortunate car-related incidences that befell my ex-colleague. A tree fell on her bonnet after a major thunderstorm in Kuala Lumpur. Hers was the only car to suffer this fate although there were many other vehicles parked in the tree-lined open car park area. The same colleague, on a different occasion, was smoking with her window wound down whilst waiting at the traffic lights – when it happened again. Just as the lights turned green, a much taller four-wheeler drove past very quickly and dumped stagnant water into her car and on her. It had rained the night before. My colleague then went into work, smelling foul, and requested some time off to clean her car and herself before continuing with the rest of her day. True story. I couldn’t have made it up if I tried.

My takeaway was these things happen, and they happen to all or many of us at some point or other. It’s only a car. Material things can be replaced, albeit, with a moan and a groan and some money. What matters is no one is hurt.