A stranger in the night

There was an ugly thud, and instinctively I realised something was very wrong. I was driving at about 110km/h, on Al Khail Road, at about 9.45pm. The rear right tyre had burst, and I was concentrating on not losing control of the car. I slowed down and stopped on the corner just before the exit to Al Wasl.

I had been in this situation five years ago, on the Riyadh-Damman highway, en route to Bahrain. But back then, I had been in the passenger seat while my uncle drove. And we had fixed the spare tyre together and driven on.

Now, I took out the spare tyre, jacked up the car and unbolted the screws. But when I tried to pull out the worn-out tyre, it wouldn't move.

I pulled with all my might and kicked it hard, but to no avail. It was about 10.30pm, and I was sweating profusely from the effort, my hands sore and clothes covered in dust.

Very, very few motorists stop in the UAE when you try to seek help by the roadside. Every driver here knows this fact. So I didn't bother trying to seek help. I was still pulling at the burst tyre when I felt headlights on my face.

I thought it was the police who had pulled over, but realised it was an ordinary motorist in a small SUV. I was surprised at the gesture and went up to him. I realised he had kept his headlights (and ignition) on.

He was from Pakistan, and must have been no more than 45 years old. He told me he was on his way to the Sharjah airport, to pick up his wife and daughter. They were returning from Lahore after their vacation. He introduced himself as "Mr Ramzan".

I explained to him what the problem was. He immediately said I just needed to hit it from behind with a hammer and the tyre would come off. He said he did not have a hammer and we both started to look for a heavy stone.

Having found one, we started hitting with all our might but in vain (I hit a finger in the process, the oozing blood adding to the misery).

Then Mr Ramzan went around, and came back with a log of wood. He placed the log behind the rear wheel and told me to reverse the car and go forward. - and repeat the procedure until the tyre fell off on its own. It struck me as a dumb idea, but I obliged.

Predictably, nothing came of his scheme. It was now about 11pm, and he - apologetically - said he could hang on no longer, as his family would be waiting for him at the airport.

I told him, of course, he should carry on, and that he had already done more than most others would be willing to do and thanked him.

Stopped suddenly

He turned to walk towards his car, while I was calling 181 to get the number of a road assistance service. But he suddenly stopped.

He took out his mobile phone, called his wife, and told her to take a taxi home. Before I could say anything, he asked me to wait right there, saying he would be back soon. And he drove away.

About half an hour later, Mr Ramzan was back, this time armed with the biggest hammer I had ever seen. He brought along a towel, laid it out beneath my car, and asked me to get under, and hammer away at the wheel.

I did so, and in two shots, the tyre came almost flying out and landed on the freshly pressed white salwar khameez of Mr Ramzan.

In my joy, I forgot to even apologise to him. But he didn't mind a bit, and we shook hands gleefully, pleased with the result of the joint operation.

I then bolted the spare wheel. And stood up to see Mr Ramzan standing there with a bottle of ice-cold water he had bought at a petrol station for me.

"I thought you would be thirsty after all this," he said. He was suddenly in a hurry to leave, so much so that I could not even take down his mobile number. I thanked him repeatedly. We shook hands and he left to meet his family.

If you are reading this, Mr Ramzan, I want you to know I will never forget what you did that night.

P.S: I replaced all four tyres the next day.