Here is the translation of the text:

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There was a serious traffic jam while I was in my luxurious car, which exuded elegance. The car's beauty and design were outstanding, constantly shining.

I was skillfully using my phone, chatting with my friend Benezar, who was studying in Australia. Noticing that we had stopped, I looked at the driver and said in a soft voice, "What's going on?"

Quickly, he turned around, fearing he might have made a mistake, and said, "Sorry, madam, there is a serious traffic jam, but I don't know the cause."

She gave him a look but said nothing more. He knew that remaining silent could cause him trouble, so he said, "Madam, let me get out and see what's happening."

She didn't respond, and he knew it was unlikely she would. He got out and started weaving through the cars to find out what was going on. To his surprise, it wasn't the cars that were causing the jam; an old man had been hit, which was the cause of the accident.

The people around were praying for him. Tukur hesitated to go back and tell his madam what had happened because he knew she didn't care about anyone else's problems. Her only concern was her own issues. But he had no choice; he had to go back and inform her, even if she scolded him, as he couldn't just stay outside.

Returning, he looked at her carefully and respectfully said, "Sorry, madam, there has been an accident here. But I will find a way for us to get through."

He said this a bit nervously, knowing trouble was likely.

I hadn't looked up at him since he started speaking, almost as if I didn't hear what he said. I moved my lips slowly, knowing how to articulate my words well, but I didn't speak because I wasn't good at talking, whether it pleased someone or not.

My only joy was chatting with friends or going to low-key parties or to another state.

From then on, I didn't say anything more to him. I got out of the car slowly and walked toward the accident scene. Tukur kept following me, pleading, "Madam, please stop, don't go into that crowd. It's hot and sunny."

I didn't even look at him, let alone respond. I just headed to where I wanted to go.

At that moment, the old man got on his bicycle to leave. His hands and legs were injured, a pitiful sight. People were telling him to come back so they could take him to the hospital, but he insisted he was fine and would go to the local chemist in their neighborhood.