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The Grab Driver Who Used to Be a Teacher

The Grab Driver Who Used to Be a Teacher

He said he makes more now. And then the question of what "more" actually means starts to take shape.

The driver, call him Faizal, which is close enough, taught secondary school for nine years. Maths. He was good at it, he said, or at least the students did fine. The problem was everything else. The admin. The meetings. The reports that doubled every year. The feeling of being evaluated constantly against metrics that didn't seem to have much to do with whether the kids actually learned anything. One day it became too much and he signed out.

Now he drives eight to twelve hours a day depending on how he feels. He chooses his hours. He doesn't attend meetings. When a passenger is rude he can just not rate them well and avoid them in future. He described this with a quiet satisfaction that sounded earned.

And the income: yes, on a good week he does better than his teaching salary. On a bad week, less. It averages out.

What he doesn't have is harder to see from the outside. His EPF now is whatever he puts in himself. After tyres, fuel, maintenance, and the months where the car needed something expensive, what's left to put in is not always much. His old job had a contribution going in automatically, whether he thought about it or not. This job doesn't.

No hospitalisation leave. A back that's started to hurt from the seat. No payout if the car breaks down tomorrow and he can't work for two weeks. He knows all this. He's not naive. He chose this.

But "chose" is doing a lot of work in that sentence. He chose this over a job that had become untenable. That's different from choosing this freely, from a position of equivalent options. Most people who've entered the gig economy will tell you the same story in different words. It wasn't entirely a choice. It was the best available exit from something worse.

The flexibility is real. That's not nothing. Especially for people with irregular caring responsibilities, health issues, or family situations that a standard nine-to-five doesn't accommodate. The gig economy genuinely opened doors for people who were locked out of traditional employment.

What it didn't come with was transparency. The pitch, be your own boss, work your own hours, was not accompanied by a clear explanation that you were also now your own HR department, your own insurance, your own retirement fund manager. That the freedom came with a full set of responsibilities that used to belong to an employer and now belong to you.

Faizal doesn't regret leaving teaching. He sounds like he means it when he says that. He's lighter now. Less ground down.

But when the conversation turned to the future, a house, retirement, what happens if the car goes, he went quiet for a moment. Not worried exactly. Just, he said, not sure yet.

The highway merged ahead and the app said seven minutes to destination. The question sat unanswered in the back seat.