There was a time when riding a motorcycle meant mastering clutch control, balance, and the distinct art of shifting gears. Today, scooters have taken over, offering convenience without the challenge. You just twist the throttle and go. It’s easy, liberating, and dangerous, especially for teenagers who see two wheels as freedom and forget that freedom always has rules.

Last week, a 15-year-old boy learned this the hard way, literally by skidding like a toy on a pavement. He was on a motorcycle that, by law, he shouldn’t even be riding.

Reports said he brushed against an SUV. The driver, instead of cooling down, rammed the boy’s motorcycle in what can only be described as an act of rage. The kid was thrown off, his small frame no match for a two-ton steel beast powered by pride and temper.

The police quickly announced they’re filing attempted murder charges against the SUV driver. It’s an appropriate response, but it doesn’t answer the deeper question that keeps replaying in people’s minds: how did a small traffic scrape become an attempted killing?

It starts with ego. The kind that festers behind the wheel, magnified by air conditioning, tinted windows, and the illusion of superiority that comes with horsepower and leather seats. Some drivers treat their vehicles like armor. Scratch their paint and it’s like wounding their honor. The SUV driver didn’t just see a boy who brushed against his car. He saw a threat to his imagined dominance on the road. So he punished him.

We can analyze it with all the psychology books in the world. Maybe it was misplaced anger from a miserable day. Probably toxic masculinity, or the kind of entitlement that comes from thinking money or age or machinery makes you untouchable. Whatever it was, the result was the same. A man decided to be judge, jury, and executioner because his pride got scratched.

Yet, it’s not just him. Our roads are full of people like him. Road rage is no longer the exception; it’s a daily ritual. A study by the World Health Organization ranked the Philippines among the worst in Southeast Asia for road safety, with an alarming number of aggressive driving incidents leading to violence.

Globally, road rage has turned into its own epidemic. The United States logs thousands of assaults and hundreds of deaths yearly linked to angry drivers. The pattern is everywhere. Frustration turns to fury, and fury draws blood.

And yet, there’s the other side of the story. The boy was fifteen. Too young to legally drive. Too inexperienced to handle real danger. Where were his parents? Did they know he was out there riding? Or did they, like many others, think it harmless to let kids take motorcycles for a spin around the block?

Parental negligence is part of this mess, and it’s not just about one family. It’s about how we normalize rule-breaking until tragedy happens.

The roads mirror who we are. Impatient, self-righteous, and quick to blame. We rage because we think our time matters more than someone else’s. We retaliate because we can’t stand being slighted. But behind every honk, every curse, every violent impulse, there’s a choice. To either drive with decency or descend into chaos.

Maybe what we need isn’t just stricter laws or more traffic enforcers. We need humility, the kind that tells you it’s okay to be wrong, to be delayed, to be scratched. It’s okay to step out, check the damage, and walk away. It’s okay to forgive. Because no one really wins a fight on the road. The moment you lose your temper, you’ve already crashed.