As we left the café, the path narrowed again. Without warning, she crouched down.“Hop on.”“What?”“Piggyback time. I want to carry my baby boy up the last slope like a sack of sugar.”I reluctantly clung onto her back. She stood up effortlessly, my legs dangling, arms looped around her shoulders.“You’re lighter than my niece’s schoolbag,” she teased as she walked, “At least that doesn’t wiggle and whimper on my back.”Halfway up the path, a small group of women were walking down. One of them stared and said, “Arrey, is he riding you?”“Yes,” aunty replied brightly. “My man likes to ride tall