After my matriculation exam, my father asked me to learn to drive so that I would be able to pick him up at his office. Maybe he did not want to see me living at home doing nothing – I hadn’t considered attending English or computer classes like most other people my age did.

So began my driving training. The place was Theinbyu tennis court compound and the teacher was my brother.

My first experience was not a good one. I can’t remember how many times I nearly knocked over my brother because I couldn’t tell the difference between the brake and accelerator.

My parents had to accompany us because my brother and I would always come back home fighting.

After one month of practising, I found I enjoyed driving – so would steal the car keys before my brother woke up, causing more fights.

But my happiness did not last very long. One morning, I drove to Kandawgyi Garden with my sister and aunt and, perhaps a little overconfident, I took a corner too fast.

Suddenly, “Bang.”

People walking by stopped and stared. Uh oh, I thought.

My whole body was covered in a layer of sweat and I wanted to hide when I saw the back of car that I hit, a bright red Toyota Crown with a foreigner in the back seat.

A man came out from the car and shouted: “How could you do that to me?”
I was too shocked to respond, so he continued: “The traffic police will arrive in a minute and everything will get worse.”

At last I told him to discuss the compensation in a quiet place and we drove to a car park opposite Kandawgyi Palace Hotel.

On the way, I phoned my father that I hit another car from the back.

Fortunately, he wasn’t angry; he said it will be ok as long as I did not hit a person.

Half an hour later, my two brothers arrived and they talked about how much compensation to offer.

In the afternoon, the man whose car I hit came to my house together with a lawyer to write an agree-ment.

Oh, how I felt sorry for my parents and cursed my careless driving.

The cost of repairing both cars was K300,000. It was eight years ago.

Although my parents have encouraged me to drive again, I don’t dare because I cannot afford to pay compensation if I again cause an accident. But I told them that I will drive one day when I can afford to buy a car.

This may be a dream though. In reality, today, I am struggling to survive on my salary as a reporter, so certainly cannot afford to buy a car.

My message to young drivers is that driving is not so easy and you need a lot of experience – and, of course, to be able to pay a large amount of money as compensation if you have an accident.

But at least no one was hurt in my accident. It would be unimaginable for a driver if they caused an accident that involved deaths or injuries.