Sometimes you forget how tough others have it in the world. There are people who'll remind you though, like those who can publicize their and their colleagues' own tribulations on social spaces they dominate and control: reporters.

The Agong, aka Malaysia's king, took it upon himself to treat reporters covering the current political situation to some fried chicken and burgers as they set up camp outside the palace gates in the blazing heat. Which isn't a big deal. If you're a king, literally everyone else is living a harder life than you. A benevolent king is better than a tight-fisted one, I think everyone can agree. And since the palace became the main focus of events, the House of Pahang probably felt compelled to take care of the plebs spread out on the palace lawn.

Everyone gave this guy props when it made the news. And when you're publicly lauded for a good deed, it inspires others to do more good in the world. Many of them scamper out of the woodwork, like Instagrammers who notice a camera in the distance and start sprinting towards it like an Olympic runner.

I'm circling Kantian territory here, only because it's necessary in the modern age of normalized exploitation of the self and others under the guise of humanitarian aid, like in this case.

Some girl who calls herself "Cleopatra" suddenly showed up at the palace gates with the unmistakable essence of a shameless self-promoter and began handing out Dominos pizza to reporters toiling away like laborers out on the lawn. She stayed for about half an hour to take photographs and be photographed for obvious reasons. Later in the day, the palace served dessert to those reporters.

Milo, Nescafe, Tealive, Burger King, Watsons, and other brands proceeded to show up to have their generosity documented by handing out free noodles, burgers, bubble tea, nasi kandar, donuts, ice cream, and power banks to those reporters who were literally on the job. It was a party of handouts! And shameless advertising! The scene outside the palace gates was akin to a funfair as trucks bearing the names of companies descended upon the settlement, eager to come to the aid of deprived reporters.

Reporting the news is a tough gig. I've seen enough documentaries and read enough articles to understand that. It's part of the job description that enduring unpleasant situations when out in the field including, and not limited to: braving the heat, blizzards, tsunamis, fires, war, bullets, bombs, gangs, seedy hotels, racists, mosquitos, riots, death threats, kidnappings, diseases, and a lot of waiting around, is a given.

A bit like the people who permanently live in abject poverty and dangerous areas around the world, or do other arduous, life-threatening work daily.

Seriously, though: Why would you show up at someone else's property, especially a king’s, to hand out an endless supply of food and drinks as though those local reporters had been stranded in Burundi for several days, and weren't simply 350 meters away from Plaza Damas? Food options are 2 minutes away. Six minutes if you walk.

If they can't get in the vehicle that they drove to their job location at Istana Negara that morning to get themselves a meal, there are food delivery services available like Grab. If all they packed in their bags before they left the house was a bar of chocolate, like that one reporter who woefully admitted to other reporters—all of whom get paid by their respective networks—the less dim-witted members of the public should advise them to bawak bekal next time, instead of encouraging a bizarre instance of oblivious, self-indulgent pity.

Try packing an actual meal in some food storage containers when you’re out working in the field. Maybe have some power bars and Vitagen on hand.

Not a single one of those reporters spoke out in embarrassment of being coddled and exploited as a protected class but lined up eagerly for freebies.

Someone should start an app that tracks the whereabouts of Malaysians who have to work outside on location, and orphanages—shameless opportunists will exploit children if they have to—so charitable entrepreneurs and companies can find them and get a photo op, all in the name of capitalism. I mean, goodwill.