COMMENT | This was what happened to me last Thursday. I left home for work earlier to beat the rush-hour traffic and made a detour to the petrol station. I came out of my car with the doors unlocked when a man in a motorcycle came close behind me.

“Some money for me to fill petrol,” he murmured. His tanned skin made his coarse hands obvious, holding onto a motorcycle that looked like much time had passed since its purchase. The yellowed helmet couldn’t hide his frightened eyes like he wasn’t sure how to beg for money.

I took out my wallet and started looking for some change.

“Any amount will do. If you have RM5 that would be good, or if you don’t, that’s okay too…” he continued.

I found a RM5 note trapped between a few RM1s and RM20s, so I pulled the RM5 and gave it to him.

His feet started moving away from me, his hands firmly gripped the motorcycle handles.

“I can’t believe you trusted me. I could be lying to you and cheating your RM5 but you trusted me… I can’t believe I could still meet someone like you.”

“It’s okay, take the RM5, I still have money. Take it this time,” I said.

“No, no!” he said, in a voice that grew louder. He was now...