I was recently in the market for a new car when Perodua announced a price drop for Malaysia’s first homegrown electric vehicle: the QV-E. So I booked one for a test drive.

The QV-E is not a rebadge. This was a special purchase, and originality mattered.

I like everything about the car, quirks and all. It looks like a die-cast toy car that would catch my eye in a toy shop, it is essentially a compact coupe awkwardly pretending to be a family MPV, and the interior looks as though it was designed by a nervous rookie who was terrified of making a mistake, definitely made a few, but not one said anything.

I even like the cosy dark cabin, the modest centre-console display, and the buttons. I

It also packed all the modern driver-assist technology I have always wanted but never had, alongside more than enough range to get me back to my hometown with plenty to spare.

Even the controversial RM215 Battery-as-a-Service (BaaS) subscription did not deter me. Sure, it doesn’t actually make the car any cheaper—it practically just converts a chunk of the t cost into an interest-free instalment plan. And yes, I’m well aware that Perodua will profit off my lease and then profit again by recycling the degraded battery for secondary applications later.

To me, the QV-E felt like an Apple product, just minus the flashy marketing. It is not the smartest or most logical choice, and it is certainly not a car I would blindly recommend to everyone. But it fits me.

Ultimately, there was one massive, unavoidable hurdle: charging logistics.

I wanted to be the trend setter, the odd one out, the one who gave the most contentious electric car a chance. But I do not have a private charger, and there are no public charging stations where I live, as well as at my workplace.

So, walking away from the QV-E’s tempting RM64,000 promotional price, I took a practical step back and landed on a Perodua Myvi (with the Ace Body Kit). It was a choice that all of my colleagues praised—a car that they have only good things to say about.