I glanced up at my rear view mirror for a micro-second before the Jeep Wrangler rammed into the back of my matchbox-sized Fiat 500. My sunglasses were flung off my face, as my car was pushed a few metres forward into oncoming traffic. I remember having the presence of mind to tilt the steering wheel to the right, to stay out of harm’s way. The crash and its impact over, the little convertible shuddered to a halt, lights and symbols flickering across the dashboard.

I felt the shock then, as I absorbed what had just happened. Although I escaped unhurt, the car was ruined. The bumper was squashed, rear lights broken and strewn across the street, and the vehicle just wouldn’t start.

The gentleman who had been driving the Jeep, was by now, with me. He helped push the little white car with its red hood to the side, and was solicitously asking me if I was OK. He then took care of generating an accident report through the Dubai Police app. All that remained was for a tow truck to come and take my car away.

Around midnight, an SMS from Dubai Police lit up my phone screen: ‘Please view your accident report through the following link’. A tap and the PDF of a green-bordered document popped up. As expected, I was in the clear.

In the month that ensued, we were at the mercy of whatever internal warfare was happening between the insurance companies — ours and the Jeep owner’s — with no sign whatsoever of repairs getting underway.

As we all do when disaster strikes, I replayed the accident several times in my mind. I could have avoided it in any number of ways. For one, it was not even the route I routinely take to pick up my 10-year-old son from school.

Being in Healthcare City, with just enough time to make it to the school by 2.15pm, I opted for Shaikh Zayed Road, instead of my usual Salik-free Al Wasl Road.

Unfortunately, it proved to be a slow crawl along the six-lane highway, and it was only when I turned into the service road just after Safa Park, that I began to relax. I was a mere five minutes away from my son’s school. Past two speed bumps, I slowed down to turn left. Once again, a departure from the usual. I normally always drive ahead to the small roundabout to access the school from the back.

And wait a minute! In my mind’s eye I can still see that taxi slowly cruising up towards me getting bigger and bigger. I remember thinking ‘There’s enough time to make a quick turn!’

But no. I chose to be the model driver and wait politely.

The rest is history. And soon my car was going to be history too.

A little over a month after the accident, my husband received an email from our insurance company: “We regret to inform you that the following vehicle has been surveyed and found to be beyond economical repairs (Total Loss).”

An email followed with a Total Loss Offer Letter. I realised I couldn’t have chosen a worse time to have an accident. We had just renewed our insurance, but it was due to come into effect the following month after the one-month grace period that Roads and Transport Authority allows to sort out renewal formalities.

Now as per policy, (grr), in the event that a vehicle is written off, the insurance company calculates the depreciation amount, which in our case was a 20 per cent deduction from the insured value for the past 12 months. Since we were just into our 13th month, a further 5 per cent was deducted. All I can say is, ‘total loss’ took on a whole new meaning when I saw the offer amount with the maths all neatly worked out.

Maria Elizabeth Kallukaren is a freelance journalist based in Dubai.