YOU have not truly tasted the flavour of Malaysia until you have survived rush hour on the Federal Highway, dodged a Myvi whose driver thinks he is Lewis Hamilton and made it to the mamak in one piece – physically, at least; mentally… maybe slightly traumatised.
Ah, the Myvi – our local legend. The only car that claims to do 140km/h on paper but somehow feels like it is breaking the sound barrier. Small size, big dreams.
The way they zip through three lanes like they are late for a kenduri – Makcik can’t help but admire the confidence – even if half the time her heart is doing a HIIT workout in the driver’s seat.
And don’t get Makcik started on motorbikes. OMG. They appear out of nowhere, like hungry mosquitoes at a Raya open house. One second jalan clear, the next – vroom – a mat rempit sumbat his bike between your side mirror and your patience.
Sometimes Makcik wonders if these boys got their teleportation licence from the Road Transport Department – the way they slip through traffic feels like a magic show at a pasar malam. “Sekarang you see them, now you don’t!”
Signal lights: Decorative item only
Malaysian drivers also share a national hobby – not using signal lights. Why bother, kan? Signals are for people who have trust issues. Real Malaysians? We communicate spiritually. The car in front drifts slightly to the right – aiyoh, maybe turning right-lah. But wait, now it’s back to the left – oh, suddenly parking. Guess-lah, bro, guess! Makcik sometimes feels like she is playing psychic bingo on the road. “Number 17 turning? Eh, salah. Number 52 braking? Alamak, betul.”
And if they do use the signal, it is usually after they have turned – like a surprise plot twist in a Malay drama. “Eh, tengok, dia masuk simpang! – Eh, baru signal? Wah, suspense betul.”
Roundabouts: Local version of Russian roulette
The humble roundabout transforms into an arena of hope, panic and silent prayer. Step one: Enter bravely. Step two: Circle once, twice… realise you have missed the exit. Step three: Nearly collide with
a Kancil that does not believe in yielding. Step four: Exit anywhere and figure it out later. It is practically cardio for the soul. Makcik sometimes gets dizzy – but hey, free spinning class.
Rain: Suddenly, everyone forgets how to drive
When hujan turun, Malaysian drivers suddenly remember God – because half of them forget how to drive, the other half drive faster. The road becomes a free-for-all. Wipers on full speed, motorbikes hiding under bridges but the Myvi? Still speeding, still fearless. “Banjir?
Tak apa, Myvi can float-lah.” Legendary.
And when floods happen? Time to upgrade car photo shoot. “New profile picture with flood background.” Ada orang ready with drone, TikTok live – the works! Malaysia boleh!
National pastime: Cucuk belakang
Tailgating is basically Malaysia’s unofficial sport. You are cruising happily, then suddenly there is a Hilux so close Makcik can see what brand of tissue box he has got at the back. High beam flashing, horn blaring – like he is herding lembu. Relax-lah, abang. My old Saga cannot grow wings just because you are angry. But, Makcik respects your optimism.
Parking: Creative expression
Malaysians don’t just park; we express ourselves. On the line, half on the kerb, double-parked, even triple-parked, with a number left on the dashboard – though they may not answer. Like modern art: confusing to look at, impossible to understand but somehow still there. And the classic excuse: “Just five minutes-lah.” Everyone’s five minutes is at least twenty. It is like “Malaysian standard time”, but for parking.
Emergency lane: Shortcut for the brave
Some drivers treat emergency lanes like their private VIP expressway. Ambulance? Bomba? Tepi sikit-lah bro, I am in a hurry here. And when the abang polis finally stops them? “Aiyoh, tak tau-lah tak boleh.” Eh, tak tau? Confirm dapat A+ in acting school.
Traffic lights: Loose guideline
Red means stop – but in Malaysia, it also means: “Quick-lah, last minute!” Yellow? For most, it means slow down. For Malaysian drivers, it means speed up or risk missing the chance of a lifetime. And green? Green is a free-for-all – siapa berani, dia jalan dulu.
Horn symphony
Horns in Malaysia are not just
for danger. They are our local language.
Short beep: “Oi, cepat sikit-lah!”
Long beep: “Wey, you blind-ah?!”
Friendly double beep: “Macha, I see you!”
Angry repeated beep: “Cilaka, move-lah!”
Sometimes, one lorry starts honking and suddenly the whole road orchestra joins in – like a flash mob, but with more anger.
Yet, somehow… we survive.
Despite the sudden brakes, surprise lane changes, motorbikes slicing through traffic like satay sticks and the occasional driver applying makeup at 80kph – somehow, we all still get where we are going. Late, maybe, but still alive.
So, next time you see a Myvi flying past, a Perodua Alza half-parked on a roundabout or abang on a superbike weaving like an ular, don’t get too angry.
Remember, in Malaysia, the road is not just jalan raya; it is our own live-action comedy, daily reality show, and sometimes, a test of patience.
And Makcik? Still marinated, still lempang with love, still shouting: “Oi, signal-lah!” from behind the wheel.
Stay safe on the road, sayang – and keep your cool and sense of humour. You’ll need it.
Azura Abas is the associate editor of theSun. Comments: [email protected]
