I do not have many particularly vivid memories of my early childhood but the images of sexual abuse never go away.
I was barely seven years old, living in a typically large middle-class family with five siblings and numerous other relatives sharing a two-bedroom flat with a terrace.
My mother, a housewife, was always busy with the business of running such a big family on very limited resources. My father had so much to do just to feed all of us.
I loved being a part of this huge family. It gave me a strong sense of home - but it also made me an easy prey for sexual abuse.
Distant relatives and cousins kept coming and going through the family home. Being the youngest girl in the family, I was "loved" by them.