I had an abnormally happy day today. I don’t know why. Nothing special happened. I just woke up happy, went to a staff meeting and came home. Happy. Nothing has changed. I still have no job. I have still been single for 27 (almost 28) years. And I am still majorly in debt. But I was just happy today.
I am childless, but I love kids.
I have worked with them since I can remember.
I plan to have plenty when I’m married.
In the meantime, I claim the children of my friends.
Here is a video featuring some of my kids.
Please keep in mind that this really has absolutely nothing to do with Obama. Even though his name is mentioned, this post is in no way used to advance his name or cause or whatever. He seems like a stellar guy in real life. He may or may not be the change that the world needs. Right now, I do not care about that. Frankly, politics are not my thing. So, before people write me about what they think of Obama, please reread this last paragraph. This is not about him.
There.
Enjoy.
(Sorry it is not the clearest. Mobile videos will do that. But I think it is enjoyable nonetheless.)
My Kids from Ruthie O. Unaegbu on Vimeo.
Kids are awesome!
I think it is only appropriate to start this series at the beginning. To start it with the reason I was able to go to Nigeria for the first time in my 27 years of life. Ideally, my whole family would have gone, but lack of finances did not allow it to be so. Therefore, exactly half of my family was able to go: My dad, my sister and me.
Visiting family, was obviously a major reason for our trip. However, it was not the only reason. See, my dad is a pastor and he was invited to preach at a conference in one of the biggest churches in Nigeria: The Redeemed Evangelical Mission (TREM). This conference ran from November 17th-23rd and featured special guests from all over the Africa and the world. The theme of the conference was “A God Said…” For my first week in Nigeria, I went to church basically all day every day. And athough I suffered from jetlag, it was an enjoyable experience. God was evident everywhere.
The other reason we went to Nigeria was for my Dad’s charity: REST International Ministries. The last time my dad traveled to Nigeria was in 2006. While he was there, he visited various schools and was amazed at their conditions. One such school was Ozar Secondary School in Abia State. This is a government school and many government schools are in deplorable states. Living in Canada, it is so obvious that we take school for granted. We expect to have doors on our buildings. They do not. We expect to have desks to sit in and equipment to use. They are thankful if they do. We expect to use a functioning bathroom at least once per day. They do not even have a functioning bathroom on the premises. This is what my dad saw in 2006.
So he took it upon himself to help make a difference. Upon returning to Canada, he started fundraising for desks. My Dad ended up raising enough money to make 100 three-seater desks for the school (there are 400 students) and 8 desks for the principal and teachers.
My dad is a humble man. He did not think that what he did was a big deal. He thought that he would just go to the school and hand over the desks. Many had to convince him that his act of philanthropy was, in fact, a big deal. It turned out that there was a whole big ceremony.
They welcomed him with singing:
They welcomed him with dancing.
They even presented him with a chief’s hat and outfit. Government officials were also invited, although I do not remember who they were.
The students and the administrators were so thankful. It was a very amazing and humbling experience. It just puts into perspective what we take for granted here every day. These kids were happy to get desks. Can you imagine?
So, that is the back-story explaining why I went to Nigeria.
Stay tuned for more!
I am back from, as my friend so eloquently put it, my OHMYGOSHHOWLONGWASTHISVACATION six week Nigeria trip. And let me tell you, it was unbelievable. First time to Nigeria and first time meeting the majority of my family. Before this trip, I had only met one Auntie and one Uncle on my dad’s side and then my maternal grandma. I have now met everyone which includes my mom’s 2 sisters and one brother, their spouses, and my 9 cousins. And I saw my grandma again. On my dad’s side, I finally got to meet my dad’s step mom, my youngest uncle (a mere 10 years my senior), my uncle’s fiance, my dad’s brother in law and my cousin. I also got to see my dad’s sister again after 18 years.
My dad and I stayed in Nigeria for six weeks and my sister was there for three. Yes, we took plenty of pictures. And when I say plenty, multiply that number in your head by 1000. Because my sister is studying photography and has a Nikon D300, most of the pictures that I will be using in my upcoming posts will be hers. Because they’re brilliant. And we also have tons of video.
So please, let me jetlag detox, but keep your eyes open for many upcoming posts chronicling my adventures.
(haha, a picture of a boy, not related. Just lived in the apartment below my Auntie and Uncle, where we stayed the majority of the time in Lagos. Loved him. Don’t even know his name…)
…of my birth.
27th to be exact.
Man, I’m old.
And God is good!
No matter how many rants I have, God has been so good to me. He has blessed me beyond belief and I am so fortunate to know Him.
Jesus rocks man!
And I cannot wait to see what is in store for me for this coming year.
***Yes, I know. Not a baby picture. But the closest I could find at this time. 
***
My cousin wants me to stop talking about how broke I am. I would love to stop talking about how broke I am, but that really cannot happen until I am no longer broke. The thing is, when I say I am broke, I mean I AM BROKE. I literally have nothing in my bank account. I have to ask my dad for pocket change when I drive somewhere because if I were to have an emergency, I would have nothing. Not even my emergency credit cards would work. Because they are maxed. You know the ones I signed up for to use strictly for emergencies? Well, those emergencies became defined as tuition. So, they are not even maxed on good stuff. Anyway, all this to say that it sucks to be broke when you want to pursue a career as an actress.
Yes, I know, it is basically a written rule for actors to be broke, but at least many can sustain themselves as waiters/waitresses. If I were to become a waitress, my parents would kill me. Well, not kill me, but…you know. It is all my fault though. I got a Master’s. They want me to work in my field, which is understandable. The thing is, it is proving hard to find a job. Plus, I would ideally like a job that will allow me to audition. Therefore, evening and weekend shifts? Man, this is difficult.
I guess this post is just another a rant. All this is just to say, that I cannot wait to make money so I can pay for acting classes so I can build my resume so that I can get jobs that pay.
Catch 22 anyone? Can you relate?
And now for a kid related story.
So, while working as a youth staff on the cruise ships, my first nutty nickname was Babe Ruth… for obvious reasons. One afternoon, I was working and a 6 year old came up and gave me a picture that she drew for me. It was addressed to Bay Brooth.
Sometimes I am an impatient person.
Ok, let me rephrase that: I am sometimes impatient when it comes to getting something I want.
I am patient when it comes to everything else, including taking care of kids. I get that from my dad.
Anyway, in this post, I am talking about owning a house and having children.
My brother is 15 months younger than I and has just bought his first house.
I am jealous.
Yes, I know, I went to school longer. I have not been settled. I have no job. I have NO money. Blah blah blah… I know all that stuff. It still does not stop me from being extremely jealous. I love houses. I don’t mind going out with my dad to open houses, even with no chance of buying (although my dad and mom are looking into purchasing. They believe they have outgrown our current home and so do I… believe they have…but that’s another story).
My brother’s house has six bedrooms. It’s two years old. Here is a picture. I am jealous…oh and proud:
As for the kids part, I keep torturing myself by reading some many adoption blogs. Grace is leaving to pick up her child. She now has two. Carlos and Heather have three children. And I just found this stunning family.
I love kids. I also get that from my dad.
When people ask me how many children I want, I say 12. Some ask me to repeat, stunned, sure they misheard. Others laugh in disbelief. Few accept without reaction. But that’s it. 12. Actually the number increased since the beginning of July, but then I decided on another country I wanted to adopt from. You want to witness my family structure? Ok. Here goes (in no particular order):
Now, the thing is, that is my plan today, but it might change. Because I also plan to foster children and will most likely do that before I begin adopting. Therefore, things might happen to lead me to adopt from the foster system, which I am open to. One family that I love to read about is this family because they show me it can be done.
So, I would not mind having a house and kids today. Perhaps, not the full 12 while I am single, but I would not be adverse to fostering now. Actually, I am looking into becoming certified or whatever the term is, so that I can foster once I gain employment and find another place to live. It will happen, I know. But the impatient part of me wants it to happen now. The realistic part of me knows I have to wait. *sigh*
Now, to find a hot Christian man who will not be scared off. Hmmm….
Well, I just woke up from a nightmare and now I can’t sleep. So I decided that it was a fantastic opportunity to blog. So I give you Things I Don’t Understand (Perhaps it will be Part I, as there are bound to be more things in the future). Oh, and keep in mind that these will be random. They are in no particular order. Come on now, it’s 3 o’clock in the morning.
Ok…
1. How people can snore so loudly.
2. Why I can’t fall asleep when I hear a person snoring, even in the other room.
3. Why people, especially in LA, suffer from the “false sense of power” syndrome.
4. How I have texted over 1100 messages this month (well, incoming are counted, but still…).
5. How it can be nearly 2009.
6. Why I have been single for almost 27 years.
7. Why I can’t find an awesome Christian man who LOVES the Lord, loves kids, is athletic, is responsible, is respectful and plays the cello (haha, jk…or am I?)… (see, I’m not picky).
8. Why an awesome Christian man who LOVES the Lord, loves kids, is athletic, is responsible, is respectful and plays the cello (haha, jk) can’t find me.
9. Why people always compare black people, especially children, to edible items, namely, chocolate.
10. Why people think black people enjoy being compared to edible things, namely chocolate.
11. Why I can spend so much time on the internet.
12. Why I can’t speak another language.
13. Why I’m told, “you’re beautiful” by other girls, gay guys and my parents, but never aforementioned Christian guys.
14. Why it’s so friggin (pardon my language) expensive to fly to Nigeria.
15. Why countries in Africa are always referred to simply as Africa.
16. Why my family is so awesome!
17. Why it’s so expensive for a black girl to get her hair done.
18. Why I’m sometimes still afraid of the dark.
19. How God is so good!
20. Why God is still so good to me!
Phew. There! That’s 20. Now I think I will attempt to go back to sleep. The nightmare is gone and the snoring has stopped.
My friend WOO WOO just got engaged this past weekend. That makes about 180,000 of my friends.
My cousin just got married two Saturdays ago (Sadly, I could not attend). She is the first one of us to have done so.
My close friend got married at the end of July (I could not attend this one either). Of our group of nine, she is the fifth to get married. Oh, but two are dating and two are single. Guess which category I fall under.
A long lost friend just found me on Facebook. Literally right now. She is engaged.
My roommate from uni who is one of my best friends, well, up until last year, we were in the same situation. She had never had a boyfriend and really had never been asked out. But things change and she got married in May.
My best friend from high school is one year older than yours truly. She is married with four children (one being my beautiful goddaughter…oh and the other three are beautiful too).
I have not even had a boyfriend for goodness sakes! I have not even had a proper date. This is not what I imagined my life would be like when I was younger. When I was 7, I knew that I would be married with kids by the age of 25. I knew I would be just like Claire Huxstable.
I’m nearly 27.
So, you can forgive me if I say that I feel like I am behind. Many and when I say many, I mean MANNNNNY of my friends are at least engaged, if not married, if not mothers. I even torture myself with reading adoption blogs such as this one. This fantastic individual is a year younger than me and a mother of two. So jealous.
Therefore, I see myself as a late bloomer. My married-mother-of-four-best friend and I were talking two night ago and laughed about the fact that her children will be my babysitters. Well, she laughed and I cried. But I guess my sobs could have sounded like chuckles. *SIGH* The good part is that I will have a large pool of babysitters to choose from, which could prove to be handy.
I have almost resigned myself to getting an imaginary boyfriend just like this cunning & brilliant young lady (not cunning and brilliant just for having an imaginary boyfriend, but because… well if you read her blog, you’d know. It’s fantastic!). Obviously it would not be the same imaginary boyfriend because that would be adultery.
But after receiving news, hearing engagement stories, opening wedding invitations and viewing baby pictures, I have to force myself to take a step back and realize that what my friends (you know the ones that try to comfort you and provide reasons to why you are still single? No? Oh, I do.) say may be true. Perhaps I have not allowed myself to be available for a relationship. As many know, I have not been in one place for a long time. I am like a rolling stone (ok, so, I am not exactly like the song, mainly because I am a girl, among other things. But I do wear hats). Plus, and I have heard this many times from different people, I [may] intimidate guys. Sad but true. I do not mean to. I do not even know what I do that intimidates them. I am a nice girl. But apparently I manage to scare them off.
And some say that I have to put myself out there. Like if I find a guy attractive, I should make the first move. Umm… there is just one tiny thing that I am afraid of: rejection. Also, forgive me, but I am a little old fashioned. I feel like a guy should make the move. But I guess if they are intimidated, they won’t, huh?
Oh, and it is kinda… funny(*sigh*) when the only people who are telling you that you are good looking are other girls or gay guys. Appreciated, but I cannot do much with that, can I?
Sometimes I am fine with my single status. Sometimes I am not. But ultimately, I know I must wait. And I am waiting. I am waiting for God’s best. Someone who will do things like this for me. And I know he will be amazing.
But seriously God, must this drag on? How much longer must I wait? hehe…*SIGH*
Anyone know a single guy who is a true Christian and who is hot?
Tell me what category you fall under? Engaged? Married? Kids? Etc.
This is where I left off in Part One of this series of traveling from VA to BC:
“Needless to say, I had to pay for the extra heaviness and the extra bag. I had to pay a lot. Way too much to report here. Kinda sad, really.”
And it is sad. Because I am extremely poor. Not a little poor, but a lot poor. You know when people are in debt, but they still have an incoming income to make them feel like they will survive? Well, please minus the income and the feeling of survival, and you have me.
But that’s another story.
Probably not for here.
Anyhow, I started making my way to the first plane. Here I am walking, somewhat self-consciously to my gate. I mean, I am carrying a 17-inch beast through the airport. People were looking. Gawking really. Kinda unnerving.
So, I arrive at the gate before the gate (what do they call that?) and the guy took my ticket and my passport. He was friendly enough, but then he came out with the following phrase
“The airline has chosen you for an additional inspection. Please go to the aisle on my left.”
Really Air Canada? REALLY!
So, I lug my computers (I also had a laptop), my puffy jacket (which I wore to save some luggage space), my purse and my binder (which did not fit into any bag that I was holding, but I needed it with me) to the other aisle. I place them all on the conveyor belt along with my shoes (which are really boots that I wore, again, to save space). Kinda had to use about 4 plastic countainers.
“Beep Beep Beep,” said the machine when I went through. I had to walk back and remove my belt, that I really didn’t think had metal in it.
Then the belt broke. Awesome.
I was then directed to a glass room, so the whole world can view, point at and laugh at me, the potential Canadian terrorist (which was my nickname at my internship because I was not allowed to be considered an intern because I was Canadian. But that’s another story. Perhaps one for here)?
They called a lady in to give me a pat down, which was, by the way, less intrusive than the ones they gave me as an employee on cruise ships. Then I had to sit while she went through my stuff (and yes she said, “Is all this stuff yours?” when she saw it) with the paper attached to the stick thingy that is rubbed on the items and put into a machine. They turned up nothing. Surprise!
So, she let me go. She was really quite friendly as well. She let me throw my broken belt in her garbage.
