First Abuse

I am a lady in her 30's and I am married with 2 children. I have been married for 9 years till date.I am trying to share my story with people so they will be wiser when making their choices.
I am originally from Nigeria and I love my country even though politically I cannot understand what is happening now, hopefully it will get better. My journey in life started in Nigeria, I was born there and I am the 1st child amongst 8children. Growing up in Nigeria was so much fun, since I was born in the 70's cost of living was relatively low. My parents were middle class and my dad worked for the government when I was born and we lived in a lovely home. We had everything a child could wish for, my father really spoilt us and I loved him a lot.My mom too was a lovely woman but she in a way was scared of my dad and respected him with fear and trembling. We as the children adopted the fear a little when we were young but with a child's mind never really understood. Before my parents were married, my father's relatives lived with us and when they got married, my father's relatives still lived with us and cooked in the same kitchen my mom was cooking in. As a norm in Nigeria, a successful brother had the task of training his siblings or acting as a father figure in order to assist his family. My mom, had to bear all these people in the home, she had no choice and tried her best to accommodate them. However, my father's sisters always had an issue with her and did not like her as they felt she would cut their ration of the money they were getting from my dad.
Since there were about 3sisters and 2 brothers living in the boys quarter( chalet behind the house), there were constant visitors in our home. My first encounter with Uncle Barnabas was when we came to visit my uncle. I and my sister normally went to the boy's quarters to play with our relatives and see what they would buy for us and many a times they would give us sweets and plantain chips. On the fateful day,when I was 5, I remember going alone to my uncle's room to see him and unfortunately met his friend. I remember his piercing eyes and him telling me to sit on his lap, which I did innocently. The next thing I remember was him bringing out his black erect penis and he told me to hold it. I of course was curious and afraid and I ended up holding it. He then told me to rub it and I did. When he was done, he then told me to look at him and promise not to tell anyone what happened and gave me Tom Tom sweet and said he loved me. This was my first encounter of abuse and I did not tell my mom out of fear that she would punish me,but my innocence was robbed at such a young age and I have fought all my life to try and be who God wants me to be. This first story has taught me now as a mother to be wary of whom I let into my home as a mother. Not all uncles are good and not all aunts are good. A home should be a shelter for children and not a haven for molesters who disguise themselves as uncles/aunts and in return for your kindness to them abuse your kids. Lesson for the day: Beware of who you let in your home.