Behind the Traffic Light

Where the city rushes forward, a boy stands still with a bucket, a dream, and eyes full of stories.

A Familiar Corner, An Unseen Life

At the busy intersection of Jalan Merdeka, the traffic light blinks endlessly—red, yellow, green. Beneath it, hidden in plain sight, stands a boy named Bimo. Most passersby never really see him. They’re focused on the signal, the road ahead, the minutes ticking away.

But Bimo watches everyone.

Ten years old, dressed in a worn shirt and faded sandals, he carries a bucket and a squeegee. When the red light halts the world, he moves—cleaning windshields, nodding politely, grateful for the spare change. For Bimo, this is not just survival. It’s a front-row seat to the lives of others, and a window into the kind of future he dares to imagine.

Lessons from the Edge of the Street

Behind the traffic light, Bimo learns things no school ever taught. He can tell who’s had a bad day by the way they grip the steering wheel. He notices who looks at him with pity, kindness, or annoyance. He studies the laughter of children in back seats, and silently wonders what it feels like to fall asleep without hearing car horns.

Each light cycle is a moment—short, fleeting, but full of meaning. And as the cars race away when the light turns green, Bimo stays rooted in his corner, collecting more than coins: he gathers hope, resilience, and quiet determination.

Because one day, he believes, he won’t just stand behind the traffic light. He’ll drive past it—free, proud, and chasing the life he’s always seen through glass.