COMMENT | Much ado about flies… and cicak

COMMENT | When I was a little girl, my dad used to give me and my brother some chores around the house to keep us busy.

“Make yourself useful to the family,” he often reminded us.

Of course, at a young age, I did not understand what it meant. I took it to mean that in order to enjoy the benefits of having a roof over my head, food on my plate and the occasional gifts I received, I had to play my part in contributing something back to the family. And so I did.

I would sweep the house, fold the clothes, prepare the table for meals and do other chores that my six-year-old self was able to do. To be honest, I wasn’t really excited about carrying out the chores but being recognised and appreciated for the tasks assigned to me made me feel special.

“The garden looks really nice, thank you for sweeping the dry leaves.”

“I like the way you folded the socks!”

“You’ve been a great help around the house.”

With every acknowledgement I received, I craved for more. They made me feel loved.

And then one day, my dad called me and my brother to the living room and gave us a new chore...