You woke up early, not because you wanted to, but because the house was already moving. Buckets were scraping the floor. Someone was calling your name from the kitchen. The radio was loud enough to announce that sleep was officially over.

Before cartoons, before going outside, before anything fun, there were chores. Sweeping the compound. Washing plates from the night before. Fetching water. Cleaning what you didn’t dirty. It didn’t matter. Saturday had its own rules.

The funny thing is how structured it all was. Nobody needed to explain. You just knew. Finish your chores first, then you earn freedom. And freedom meant playing outside, visiting a friend, or sitting in front of the TV hoping NEPA would cooperate.

If you delayed, you heard it. If you complained, you heard more. By the time you were done, it was already late morning and the sun was fully out.

Looking back now, those mornings shaped discipline in a quiet way.

These days, Saturdays feel different. Quieter, but somehow faster.

What was your least favorite chore on Saturday mornings?