The young woman managed to walk briskly even with her child strapped to her back and her black handbag hanging on one shoulder. She held her mobile phone firmly in one hand. Her short, black skirt revealed her somewhat muscular calves. It seemed she was running late. With every hurried step she took, the sole of her feet slapped against her pinkish flip flops. I couldn’t help but eavesdrop on the conversation. “You’re getting heavier by the day. I’ll ask Auntie Sena if her son can take you with him to school,” I heard her utter to her child.