A Sabah mechanic’s selfless act of fixing a stranded motorcyclist’s bike for free after midnight has captured the nation’s heart, sparking a powerful chain of gratitude and reflection.
OKAY, sit down, Makcik needs to talk. Because in a world where people fight over parking lots, scream at cashiers over 10 sen short of change and post passive-aggressive notes on neighbours’ doors about recycling bins – God decided to send us one man.
One greasy, wrench-holding, motor-oil-scented angel riding his bike into the darkness at 12.30 in the morning!
Let Makcik recap for those yang baru bangun tidur. It is half past midnight. Normal people are sleeping, cats are sleeping, even the mosquitoes have clocked out.
But somewhere on a dark Malaysian roadside, a Chinese man named Dicky Yau – single father, all the way from Tawau, Sabah – is standing next to his motorbike with a snapped chain and a missing front sprocket, wondering what on earth his life has become.
And then, a Malay mechanic with the TikTok handle @minyakhitamjalanan – which Makcik needs a full minute to appreciate because it translates to “black oil on the road” and that is branding, people – gets the call.
Does he say “Alamak, so late already”? Does he roll over and pretend he didn’t hear the phone? Does he reply “Can tomorrow or not?” No! He gets on his bike and rides out into the night, like a greasy Malaysian Batman.
He fixes the bike, quotes RM145 – a fair and honest price – RM25 for the front sprocket, RM80 for the chain, RM40 labour. A man doing his job, nothing extraordinary yet.
But then he checks the Touch ‘n Go e-wallet for payment – RM176. That was Dicky’s total remaining balance.
The mechanic does the maths. We all do the maths – RM176 minus RM145 equals RM31. Thirty-one ringgit in your pocket – in this economy, as a single father and far from home.
He asked Dicky – repeatedly – if he would still have enough money to eat after paying. And Dicky, bless his stubborn, proud heart, insisted on paying the full charges.
But our midnight hero wasn’t having it. “It’s okay. Today I help you in your time of need and if I need help in the future, others will help me too,” the mechanic told him.
The keyboard patriots, the ones who post: “Proud to be Malaysian” every Aug 31 and then honk at an old uncle crossing the road on Sept 1. Who stream every Hari Raya ad on YouTube and rate them by how hard they made us cry, as though that is a personality. Makcik is in this group too, don’t worry. I am not throwing stones from outside the glass house – I LIVE here.
How many of us would have picked up that phone at 12.30am?
Crickets, sound of ceiling fan and distant bark of a dog.
Most of us would have rejected the call and texted “Tomorrow can?” Some would have gone, charged the after-hours premium and complained about it in the family WhatsApp group. And we would not have been entirely wrong – it’s midnight-lah! You also need to sleep!
But this man, rode out into the dark for a stranger and then refused to take his money. Lempang sikit diri sendiri, please. All of us – just a light one – for not being more like him.
And the story gets better because Dicky Yau – this quiet, proud single father – went viral for a second reason. When thousands of Malaysians flooded his inbox wanting to donate money to him, he refused every single one.
Instead Dicky said: “To those who have given me gifts on TikTok LIVE, I will pass the money to him so he can help others.”
Two men. Zero ego between them. One refusing to accept payment, the other refusing to accept charity – both insisting the other deserves more. Makcik is done. Someone call the ambulance because Makcik’s heart is bursting with happiness.
The video collected close to 500,000 likes and over 15,000 comments. Ministers shared it. The whole nation collectively pressed their chests and went “Haih…” in that very specific Malaysian way that means I feel this in my soul.
And yes, the fact that we were shocked – that basic human decency trended nationally – should make all of us sit with our teh tarik and reflect. Slowly – no rushing.
Kindness shouldn’t be breaking news. It shouldn’t need 500,000 likes to matter; it should just be… Wednesday, normal and unremarkable.
But here we are – and maybe that is okay – maybe God sent one mechanic on a motorbike at midnight to shake Malaysia by the shoulders: eh, wake up. This is still who we are.
So Makcik’s decree, effective immediately: Do one thing this week that nobody films, help someone at an inconvenient hour, be kind when it costs you something real – sleep, money, time, comfort.
You don’t have to go viral – you just have to go. The mechanic didn’t ride out at 12.30am for the likes; he rode out because somewhere in the dark, a stranger needed him.
That is the whole entire point. Makcik didn’t come here to write a thesis. Makcik came here to remind you that we are still capable of being beautiful to each other.
Sudah. Habis. Shoo. Pergi minum air before Makcik pengsan.
Azura Abas is the executive editor of theSun. Comments: letters@thesundaily.com
