The Traffic Jam

Every morning, two men — Mr Farid and Mr Hakim — drove to work along the same congested road. What should have been a 20-minute journey regularly became a three-hour ordeal. There were roadworks, police checkpoints, heavy rain and, occasionally, an accident. With no alternative route, both men had little choice but to endure the same traffic jam day after day. This had continued for almost two years. Mr Farid responded with anger. "Why can't the government solve this problem? Why don't the police do something? Why can't they widen the road? Why must everyone drive at the same time?" He blamed the authorities, the weather, the other drivers and anyone else he could think of. By the time he arrived home, his frustration had followed him. His wife and children often became the unintended targets of the anger he had carried from the road. Mr Hakim faced exactly the same traffic, but chose to respond differently. He knew that shouting inside his car would not move the traffic even an inch. So, instead of wasting his energy on something he could not control, he asked himself: "What can I do with this time?" He began by calling his mother and siblings, whom he had not spoken to for some time. He checked on their well-being and offered help whenever they needed it. Even when there was nothing urgent to discuss, hearing his mother's voice made the journey feel worthwhile. After that, he resumed the Arabic lessons he had once started but never completed. Every day, while sitting in traffic, he listened to language programmes and practised new words and phrases. Months passed. The traffic did not improve — but Mr Hakim did. Eventually, he became confident enough to speak and understand Arabic. It was an achievement he had never expected, and it even helped him communicate more meaningfully during his travels and deepen his understanding of the language. Both men were trapped in the same traffic jam. One allowed it to fill him with bitterness. The other used it as an opportunity to grow. So, when life brings us delays, difficulties and circumstances beyond our control, we should ask ourselves: Are we responding like Mr Farid, or like Mr Hakim? This story is entirely fictional. Any resemblance to persons living or deceased is purely coincidental.