The Moth - The Moth Radio Hour: Clean Breaks

Episode Date: September 9, 2025

In this hour, stories of clean breaks—emotional and physical. Tidy endings, broken bones, and fresh starts. This episode is hosted by Moth Executive Producer, Sarah Austin Jenness. The Moth Radio Hour is produced by The Moth and Jay Allison of Atlantic Public Media. Theresa Wiggins starts—and ends—a romance.  Adelle Onyango attempts to keep family traditions alive, in the wake of a divorce. Erik Heen needs a statue to open his soda.  In the midst of a mishap, Courtney Jae Renee must choose between her finances and her pride. Safia Ibrahim is determined to be ordinary. Podcast # 936 To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Truth or dare. How about both? This fall, the moth is challenging what it means to be daring. We're not just talking about jumping out of airplanes or quitting your job. We're talking about the quiet carriage to be vulnerable. The bold decisions to reveal the secret that changed everything. This fall, the moth main stage season brings our most powerful stories to live audiences in 16 cities across.

the globe, every one of those evenings will explore the singular theme of daring, but the stories and their tellers will never be the same. So here's our dare to you. Experience the moth mainstage live. Find a city near you at the moth.org slash daring. Come on, we dare you. mountains? We're just into daydream mode while you're stuck in traffic. With over 4,000 hotels worldwide, Best Western is there to help you make the most of your getaway. Wherever that is, because the only thing better than a great playlist is a great trip. Life's the trip. Make the most of it at Best Western. Book direct and save at bestwestern.com. Wait, was that the group chat?

Ah, sent a text to the group that definitely wasn't for everyone. You're good. Enjoy some goldfish cheddar crackers. Goldfish have short memories. Be like goldfish. This is the Mothraud. This is the Moth Radio Hour. I'm Sarah Austin Janice.

You've heard the term clean break. It's a full and complete separation from a relationship, a situation, or even a bone. If the ending is clean and absolute, it's supposed to be a good thing. The idea is that it will heal better. You'll move on sooner. There's no residue. In my life, clean breaks have been rare, and I'll tell you more about that later. but we did manage to find five stories today

from Texas to the Kenyan countryside that explore this idea from different angles. Our first story sets the stage for healthy endings done right. Teresa Wiggins told this at an open mic Moth Story Slam in Boston, where we partner with Public Radio Station WBUR. Here's Teresa. I was in sixth grade and about

22 hours into a relationship with Joey Nichols when I realized that our values would no longer align. Joey was this tall, sort of goofy, loud kid who everybody loved, and he was so kind to everybody. And I was shy and anxious and I really wanted to fit in and mostly wanted to be a good girl. But I knew Joey liked me because he talked to me in gym class. He was like, hey, Teresa, what's up? And I was like, nothing. So things were in motion. And he sent word to his friends, who sent word to my friends,

who sent word to me that he wanted to go out with me. My friends pressed me. They were like, do you like him or do you like, like, like him? And I was like, I think I might like like him. So we sent word back. And the next thing I knew, he's in front of me in the hallway. My girlfriends are in this, like, semi-circle behind me. And he's like, Trisa, will you go out with me?

And I was like, okay. It was exhilarating. I was somebody's girlfriend, and that exhilaration lasted for 1.7 seconds because exactly after that, I felt an intense urge to dryheave because I was somebody's girlfriend, and did I have to talk to him?

So the duration of this relationship, I waffled between exhilaration and nausea, which brings me to the 22nd and final hour of this partnership. And I was in sweet Miss Gapashkin's art class and she is at the chalk board yes chalk and she was teaching a room full of six graders about

prospective line drawing and I'm on one side of the room and Joey's on the other side of the room and my eyes are on the board. Suddenly there's a loud noise from where Joey's sitting and I everyone turns and looks and he is cracking up with his friend and it disrupts class. She gets it back under control but it happens

again and it happens again and it happens again And that's when I know I have this feeling in my gut that this is not a partnership that can stand the test of time. So I rip out a piece of notebook paper and I write him a note and I said, hey, Joey, what's up? I'm sorry, but we need to break up. And I fold it up and I send it across the room. And he unfolds it and he looks over at me with the saddest eyes. And he writes back and when it reaches me, I read it and says two words and he says, but why? So I write him back

super honest and I said because you fool around too much in class fold it back up, send it, he reads it he writes back and he says I'm sorry I can change dot dot dot for

you and this wave of knowledge runs through my body and I know so clearly what I need to communicate to him and I write Joey, no, in all caps, with like seven exclamation points. And then I write, never change for anyone. And I underline that like three times.

And I said, you just be you. And I send it back across the room. And he reads it and he looks up and he gives me this gentle smile and I smile back. And to this day, it is the cleanest, most mature breakup I have ever had. That was Teresa Wiggins. Teresa Wiggins. Teresa is the co-founder of Redwood Speaking, where she helps people shape their own stories.

But she says her most prized roles are as wife to her husband, Frank, and mother to her three teenagers. To see a photo of Teresa from the year in elementary school that she had this clean break, go to our radio extras page at the moth.org. Our next story comes from Adele Onyango. We met Adele through our global storytelling workshops.

She's hosted many moth shows for us in Nairobi, Kenya. But this time, she came to New York to join us at our annual main stage with Greenwood Cemetery. And share this story outside, on stage, as the sun was setting. Live at the moth, here's Adele on Yango. It's Christmas Eve in my home in Nairobi, Kenya, and something strange is happening. Mommy's in the kitchen cooking. I watch her open the oven and garnish the chicken with rosemary. In shock because all year round, this is the only time she gets into the kitchen.

It's part of our Christmas tradition that involves overeating and over-decorated Christmas trees. I still remember mommy, my sisters, and I seated around the table full of food, cackling, opening gifts. This tradition felt good. It felt like home. After Mommy died, my sisters and I desperately tried to keep their tradition going. We would buy gifts, over-decorate the Christmas tree, and have tons of food including chicken, rosemary chicken. But no matter how hard we tried,

never felt right without her. I had to hold on to these traditions because I couldn't face the pain of mommy's death. So I kept the traditions going and seven years later added another tradition, I got married. I married a man from a completely different culture and I remember on our third date laying down my deal breakers. Listen, all Christmases are going to be spent with my family. And if you don't like it, leave now. I was very outspoken.

I had loud feminist takes, and I was a media personality well known for speaking out and speaking my mind. Nothing traditional about me. We started our life, and come Christmas, I'd have the gifts ready by October, decorations out by November, but there was one floor in my plan, our apartment. I hated it. I'd drive home from work and turn onto the portal riddled road, and I'd just regret living there.

I'd park my car, climb up the staircase to our unit, and it had these dark, dirty gray walls, and I'd just get enraged. And whenever I'd walk into our apartment, it never felt like home. Our first Christmas was wonderful, our second one too, but by the third, it wasn't just our apartment that didn't feel like home. home, but also my marriage. It was becoming very clear that the wife my husband wanted was nothing like me. And I remember one night we were in bed after one of our many arguments, and he said, you refused to give me the three things that make a marriage. You don't want to give me a child, you wouldn't take my surname, and you've stopped wearing

your ring. I remember feeling like, well, he's right. I'm definitely not that traditional woman. But I was so exhausted and all I could whisper was I can't do this anymore. I can't do us anymore. My marriage was over and the divorce wasn't those amicable ones that you see in the movies. Mine was drenched in drama with family calling and saying, well, if he didn't hit you, why are you leaving? And I remember another family member saying,

you will never find another man more devoted to you than your husband. It was the hardest time. I wasn't sleeping. I'd stopped eating much, so I lost so much weight and I looked so frail. And because of my work that involves small talk, smiles, performances, being in front of crowds,

I was losing energy. And the little that I had needed to take me through my therapy sessions and meetings with lawyers. I had never lived alone. I went from living with mommy and my sisters to just my sisters after mommy died, to my partner after we got married. And so this new chapter was exciting,

but I was also quite anxious. So I began looking for an apartment, and my only requirement was I needed a garden. And my best friend took me for all my visits, but nobody prepares you for just how hard it is to find a home. I remember the first unit we saw had ceilings so low, I felt like a giant in a hobbit's house. There was another unit that had one natural light source for the entire house. And there was another unit that our agent took me to, and it had numerous bedrooms, about five.

And when I reminded the agent that, hey, it's only going to be me living here, he said, well, no worries. When you have kids, you have space. And I kept wondering, why does everybody want me to be this traditional woman, even this stranger? The last unit that we viewed in Nairobi was an apartment that had this strange staircase where each stair was at different sites. And as we hobbled back down the strange staircase to the car, I said, maybe I'm not meant to live in Nairobi. And I immediately thought of a place I'd go to whenever I'd get so stressed in my marriage. It's a little town out of Nairobi called Limuru.

It's known for its tea farms and its flower flower farms as well. So all its hills are full of thick, green carpets of tea and these little greenhouses full of flowers. And I'd always drive there and get calm and dream about living there. So in this moment, I thought, I want to live in Limuru. So on Thursday morning, I had two options. Either see another apartment in the same neighborhood with a strange staircase or take the nature riddle drive out to Limuru.

I chose the latter. And so I got into my car and my fear was increasing as I kept looking down at my GPS and seeing just how far this place is. And then I got to a point where I went up a hill and in front of me were these acres of green tea and in my rearview mirror I could see the skyline of Nairobi behind me. And in that moment I danced between this is so beautiful to this is a terrible idea.

I can't wait to take walks in the tea farms to, this place is really far. And then I went up another hill to the house, and it was love at first sight. We walked into the front room, it had a front room, through this charming, half wooden door that is terrible for security, but just so beautiful for aesthetics. And then we walked into the living room

that had these beautiful wooden floors and this big, fireplace just like my childhood home and we walked into the kitchen now as someone who doesn't cook I immediately thought of changing my ways because it was so spacious and then we went to my favorite part of the house the main bedroom my bedroom it had the same wooden floors and old white windows positioned just right so that the sunrise would meet you at the foot of your bed and its bathroom was bigger than the bedroom I had in my apartment in Nairobi. And the compound, the house is sandwiched between two tea farms. It's got yards of garden space. It's got a flower

garden. It's got a kitchen garden. And at the back, this huge avocado tree. I loved the house immediately, but what really sold me was, as I was walking through this house with complete strangers, because my best friend didn't come with me to Limuru on that day. No family members, no loving husband, as I thought my happily ever after would be like, I still felt at home. It's like all the fear and the loneliness had vanished, like we had left them at the wooden door. And so I began my move to Limuru, and the morning the movers arrived at the apartment. I was so happy. I couldn't believe that. These were my last few minutes in this horrible house. And I walked through each empty room, releasing any hopes I had for this home, releasing any hopes I had for my

marriage. And then I took my very many plants as a plant mom, put them in my car, and drove right out leading the huge moving track to Limuru. When we got there, as the movers were packing my stuff in my new home, one of them asked, which means you're going to live in this house alone as a woman. And I told him, yeah, why not? Putting on a brave face, but inside I was terrified. I was a divorced African woman in her 30s, living in a new town, in a new house, all alone.

My number one fear was collapsing in this house and not being discovered for three days. And so I gave a set of my keys to my best friend for safety. But as I settled down into my new house, one thing was scaring me, Christmas. I was panicking because I knew I needed to find a new tradition. So October came around and I hadn't bought gifts. November came around and no decorations were up. Then December came and I felt like,

losing my eyes and just opening them up and finding myself on 31st. And on Christmas week, I was driving back home, I parked my car, and I got to my charming wooden door, and something hit the top of my head. And I looked up, and it was a Christmas wreath, and I thought, do I have a stalker? And then I opened the door and walked into the front room, and there was an over-decorated Christmas tree and even more decorations in a bag, including three stockings. And I thought, what a thoughtful stalker. It turns out it was my best friend who had orchestrated this surprise.

And I called him and I was tearing up and I was so happy. And for the next hour, I showed him how I was decorating my house and I was nailing the stockings to the fireplace using high heels because I didn't have a hammer. It felt so good like Christmas had come full circle. And on Christmas morning, I woke up to the sunrise of the foot of my bed, to the sounds of the birds chirping, and I went to the kitchen, and I started to make chicken, not rosemary chicken, but honey glazed chicken, which is my favorite.

And then later that day, I was putting the food onto the table as I was waiting for my best friend to arrive. My favorite artist Hugh Masakela was playing in the background, and I felt an overwhelming feeling of happiness, of joy, of peace, of calm. And then it hits me. That's what I loved about Mommy's traditions, the feelings. It didn't matter that I was divorced. It didn't matter that I didn't have kids.

What mattered was the feelings. That was the best Christmas I had. had since mommy died. And I think it's because I finally felt at home. I finally had my own tradition. Thank you. That was Adele on Yango. Adel is still loving, living in the She started farming, and she's planted rosemary bushes in her backyard to remember her mom. She's been recognized as one of the top 50 women in Africa by African policy, BBC's 100 women, and top 100 Kenyans. Adele's move was definitely a break from tradition.

She says, quote, divorce in Kenya is still not seen as normal. A woman living alone, especially in the rural context. is quite rare. You can see photos of Adele in her backyard farm in Lemuru, happy as can be at the moth.org. In just a moment, two stories of physical breaks, but don't worry, they're the funny kind. When the Moth Radio Hour continues. The Moth Radio Hour is produced by Atlanta. public media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts.

With Amex Platinum, access to exclusive Amex pre-sale tickets can score you a spot trackside. So being a fan for life turns into the trip of a lifetime. That's the powerful backing of Amex. Pre-sale tickets for future events subject to availability and varied by race. Terms and conditions apply. Learn more at amex.ca. You can get protein at home or a protein latte at Tim's. powders, no blenders, no shakers.

Starting at 17 grams per medium latte, Tim's new protein lattes, protein without all the work, at participating restaurants in Canada. This is the Moth Radio Hour. I'm Sarah Austin-Ginness, and this episode features endings, The Good Kind.

Our next story is from Eric Heen, in Houston, Texas. He told it on stage at an open-mic story slam where we partner with Houston Public Media. Here's Eric live at the month. When I was a little kid, I had this elderly great aunt, and we all called her Babushka. And I hated going to Babushka's house

because she made me work in her garden, and my only reward would be an orange crush. One day my mom dropped me off there, and Babushka dragged me to the garden, But I had recently learned of this special maneuver where you could stick your finger down your throat and with the end result you could often get out of your obligations. So I crept down there between the corn stalks and I performed this maneuver. I said, Babushka come here, said look at this.

And Babushka comes and she looks and it worked because she said, oh my, she brings me into the house. tells me to lay down on the couch, she goes out to work in the garden, and I run to the fridge for an orange crush. Well, I couldn't find a bottle opener, but I'd recalled watching my uncle. He could take a solid object and pry it over his finger and pop open a beer bottle that way. So I looked around and I saw on this shelf there. There's this row of little statues. I picked one up and I looked and I read at the table. And I read at the base there, it said, St. Joseph of Corpettino.

So he looked pretty sturdy at the time. I sat down in a dining room chair, and I propped his feet up against the bottle, and I cranked down really hard. But the bottle cap came off easier than I thought. The statue slammed down on the armrest. It broke the guy's head off. It went rolling to the floor. So I'm looking at this severed head. I'm pretty sure I'm going to hell over this.

Because not only have I beheaded a saint, but I had done so while trying to access stolen merchandise. So I picked him up, there was chunks broken off his head, part of his cheekbone, his beard. So I went to look for some glue. I found some in a little glass bottle, I thought it was glue, but I was using it. It didn't have good adhesive qualities, I think it might have been nail polish. So when I got done, looked at the guy, looked I had the crap beat out of him.

He had these big chunks were slipping and sliding on his head. He looked like a Picasso painting. So, I nestled him into the back row of statues. And I went back to the garden, I never worked so hard in my life. That afternoon, my mom picked me up, she brought me home. And I said, Mom, I said, you know, just for an example, if someone were to say, damage a religious artifact, would the wrath of God fall upon the person who damaged the artifact

or on the person who owned the artifact? My mom said, how should I know we're Lutherans? So I went to my friend Vince's house. Now Vince was a Catholic. I was allowed one Catholic friend when it was done. I told Vince what I had done. He said, dude, St. Joseph is Jesus' dad. I said, wait a minute, Vince.

I said, God is Jesus' dad. He said, no. Vince says no. He said, St. Joseph is the earthly dad, the guy at the manger. So I go home, I'm freaking out now. I just disfigured Jesus' dad. I couldn't sleep that night. Couldn't sleep for weeks.

I have this nightmare about this special place in hell, reserved for kids who decapitate holy figurines. But then the weeks went by and nothing really bad happened. And the weeks turned amongst and everything was okay. Then it was a year. There's no great apocalypse. Ultimately, Babushka lived the world. long and happy life, and I forgot all about this St. Joseph issue until years later I was in

college. I was doing this paper on the Catholic Church of Medieval Times, and I'm doing some research. And there in the book, there's a list of saints, and there's St. Joseph, and there's St. Joseph of Corpettino. Two Josephs. opened up a whole new can of worms. All those years, I thought I'd beheaded the regular St. Joseph, but it was the Corpettino guy. So I read about him. He said, St. Joseph of Corpettino is the patron saint

who ensures that his followers at the end of their life will experience a peaceful death. I called my mother. I said, Mom, how did Babushka die? She said, peacefully in her sleep?

Now the way I see, see this thing, this could go either way. But if I might be destined for an agonizing death, then shouldn't it be for something a bit more significant than an orange crush? That was Eric Heen. Eric Heen. Eric is a retired federal investigator. living in Houston, Texas. He now spends his time organic farming, beekeeping, and writing stories. As for me, I've almost never had a clean break. I think this is why I love these stories. How do people do it? I've never broken a bone, knock wood, my parents divorced and then remarried each other. I grew up always thinking, maybe the story isn't done yet.

Maybe the story will have another chapter sometime in the future. Who knows? I like the idea of a clean break. It seems evolved. So in that spirit, here's our next story. Courtney J. Renee took the stage looking fabulous in a black velvet jumpsuit with rhinestones for a moth main stage called Only in New York. The special night was a collaboration with radio partners,

NYC to celebrate their centennial. Here's Courtney J. Renee, live at the mouth. So, as you can tell, I'm a city girl. And I embody everything that that means. I'm beautiful, stylish, charming, and outside. I'm a party girl. I love a good time. I love a good vibe.

I bring the good vibes. So one Friday afternoon, I'm home, surprisingly. And my best friend, she phones me. And she's like with hype and excitement in her voice. And she's like, there's this party at this new lounge in Queens. And this guy, Malcolm, that I was crushing on, and she's like, he's hosting the party, we should go. So let me give some backstory on my bestie.

So she'll be two peas in the pod. She's like the hype to my vibe. So it's like, you know, she's the perfect hype woman yelling, eh, eh, encouraging all of my shenanigans. So she's like, we should go. It'll be perfect for you to get FaceTime with Malcolm. So I'm like, you know, FaceTime wouldn't be bad. You know, finding eligible bachelor's in New York City is a struggle.

So I'm like, okay. So she's like, we should go. I'm like, okay, let's go. So she's like, okay, hurry up and get ready. I'll be to you in an hour. to you in an hour. So I'm like an hour, you know, like I said, I'm a city girl. It takes time and effort to get this cute. We just can't, you know, throw it together in an hour. But, you know, she put the, you're going to go see your man energy in me. So I'm like, okay, I'll get it together

in an hour. So we hang up. I hop in the shower. I take the quickest shower ever. I get out the shower and I'm like, oh, I forgot my towel. Great. But lucky for me, I'm home alone. So I'm like, oh, I'll just do an A1 down the hole to my room, finish getting ready. So I start darting down the hallway, and then boom, I fall. I'm on my back, leg straight in the ear. I look like a Thanksgiving turkey. So I'm like, okay, girl, get it together. You don't got time for this.

We got to hurry up and get ready. So I try to get up and I can. So I'm like, hmm, now confusion is setting in. I'm like, what's going on? So I try to get up again and I can. And I'm like, oh no, I've fallen and I can't get up. So I'm like, what's going on? So I'm looking, I look down and I see it.

My right ankle is hanging to the left. I know. Resimbling nothing that belongs, like it looks like it belongs on a human body. So I'm like, oh my gosh, I got to call my besties or I need. more time to get ready for the party. So, luckily for me, I'm the part of the generation. We don't go anywhere without our phone.

So I have my phone. So I call my best friend and I'm like, I fell and my ankle, I don't know, I think it's broken, but I knew more time to get ready for the party. So she's like, what? I'm like, I fell, I can't get up. And my ankle, I don't know. It's like, it's broken, but I knew more time

to get ready for the party. And she's like, bro. your ankle is broken, you have to go to the hospital. And I'm like, oh, and then it hits me. I'm in the middle of a medical emergency. I'm like, oh my gosh, I gotta call 911. So we get off the phone, I call 911. I'm talking to the sweetest operator.

She's keeping me calm, asking me all the basic information, reassuring me, everything's gonna be okay. She lets me know, she's dispatch first responders, first responders. I'm like, okay, great. Then she asks me a pivotal question. She's like, are you able to open the door for first responders? If not, they're going to have to break it down. So I'm like, hmm. I'm like, yeah, yeah, I'll open the door. Don't worry, I'll open the door. She's like, okay, so we get off the phone. Now I'm in the hallway. Wet, naked, and at a crossroads.

So at this point in my life, I'm a broke college student. I don't have rehind your door money. So I'm like, I could either scooch this way up the hallway to my room and get closed, or I could scooch this way to the door and open it, naked. So I got to choose between. my dignity and my finances. And like a capitalist American,

I chose my finances. So I scoge to the door and I wait. I hear two knocks on the door and I open the door. And in first responders fashion, it's the firemen. And these are the beautifulest sixth firemen you've ever seen in your life. They look like they work out 25-8, okay? So they come in, they surround me. One hand on the boobs.

Head down. Before they can say a word. I'm like, please. go to the room and get anything for me to put on. So one of them goes to the room, he gets something, he comes back. He's like, this, this man has found the raggediest dress that I own. You know the dress you fry chicken in?

Yes, that one. So he's like this. So I'm like, beggars can't be choosers. I'm like, okay. So I put the dress on. So now they're doing basic, ask me basic information. How did I fall? Getting all my information, letting me know everything's going to be okay.

They're going to get me out of here. So they lift me up. They put me in the wheelchair. And they're like, okay, they lift up my leg, and then heat just rushes down. And I'm in an excruciating pain. And I'm screaming. And they're like, it's okay, calm down. I'm going to get you comfortable.

So then one of the firefighters, he's like, well, we're hurt more. Open the door naked or your leg. And I'm like, the door for sure, the door for sure. So they get me in a comfortable position and we're ready to go. And they're like, are you ready? Do you have everything? I'm like, well, I have my phone. So good to go.

So we're about to leave. And I'm like, wait. I'm sorry. I don't have my wig. And they're like, really? And I'm like, listen, ankle twisted. raggedy dress, at least my hair could be on point. So they get the wig and...

The hair was on point, but it's safe to say, I didn't make it to the party that day, but I did go to the hospital maintaining my City Girl Essence. Thank you. That was Courtney J. Renee, and yes, her ankle was broken, a clean break, and she's all healed now. Courtney is a native of Queens, New York. She came to the moth through a workshop with our education department at City College. Courtney told us, quote, I now work with young people and social justice, and I live, love, laugh, and learn. Remember how I told you that I don't really have clean breaks? Well, I loved Courtney's story because I dated a firefighter for a while.

He used to pick me up in the air and do squats while holding me, like every time we met. I gave him a big moth sweatshirt and he wore it everywhere. He'd always get stopped by listeners who wanted to talk about this show. He was younger than I, and I was fully enamored. But at some point, after a lot of on again, off again, we drifted apart. You know, he had to fight fires, and I had to encourage people to tell personal stories. Both essential jobs, if you ask me. After I heard Courtney's story, I texted him.

I thought maybe he was one of the firefighters she mentioned. But no, he joined the FDNY years after the story takes place. He said, most people who see first responders are so shaken. they just want to hug. Here's the thing about dating firefighters. It is my firm belief that everyone should do it at some point in their lives. Everyone should. But when the sirens blair and the trucks go by in the big city, which is all the time,

it's nearly impossible not to think of them. So much for clean breaks. After this break, a woman is determined to be victorious over. a contagious disease when the Moth Radio Hour continues. The Moth Radio Hour is produced by Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts. This episode is brought to you by Square. You're not just running a restaurant, you're building something big,

and Square's there for all of it, giving your customers more ways to order. Whether that's in-person with Square kiosk, or online. Instant access to your sales, plus the funding you need to go even bigger. And real-time insights so you know what's working, what's not, and what's next.

Because when you're doing big things, your tools should to. Visit square.ca to get started. Summer's here, and you can now get almost anything you need for your sunny days delivered with Uber Eats. What do we mean by almost? Well, you can't get a well-groom lawn delivered, but you can get a chicken parmesan delivered.

A cabana? That's a no. But a banana, that's a yes. A nice tan, sorry, nope, but a box fan, happily yes. A day of sunshine? No. A box of fine wines? Yes. Uber Eats can definitely get you that. Get almost, almost anything delivered with Uber Eats. Order now. Alcohol and select markets. Product availability may vary by Regency app for details. Toronto, are you ready to be daring? This fall, the Moff's signature main stage season is coming to you.

Five master storytellers will take the stage and boldly explore the season theme, Daring. So here's our dare to you. Experience the moth main stage live. Join us for one night only at Carter Hall in Toronto on September 18th. Get tickets at the moth.org slash daring. You're listening to The Moth Radio Hour. I'm Sarah Austin Janice.

Safia Ibrahim is our final storyteller in this hour. From time to time, we produce custom storytelling shows that dive deep into a theme to humanize an issue that may feel foreign to some. Safia Ibrahim told this story on stage at one of those private events during the UN General Assembly for a night that drew attention to polio. She told it in front of ambassadors and change makers in hopes that personal stories may help us come together to eradicate this disease. With that, Here's Safia, live at the morning. I remember when I was six years old,

I would wake up every morning and crawl out of bed and go to the bathroom to comb my hair and brush my teeth. I would then crawl to the front steps of my grandmother's house and watch my peers as they walk to school with a thermosin hand and a backpack on their backs. I wanted to go to school too, but I contracted polio at the age of one and I was left out of school. One day, I saw two girls playing a childhood game of hopscotch. I wanted to play, so I crawled up to them and said, may I please join you?

One of them looked at me with a laugh and said, How are you going to hop when you cannot even stand? Not even knowing what I was doing, I immediately grabbed that girl by the leg and dragged her down to my level. Next thing I knew, I was pulling punches while another girl was pulling my hair. Luckily, my aunt was visiting,

and she saw what was happening and plucked me out of the dust and threw me over her shoulder. She took me back to my grandmother's house, and my grandmother, when she opened the door, she said, what does she do now? Because back then, I was known as a rubble. That was the day my grandmother decided that I was going to have to learn to walk

to walk if I was going to continue fighting with other children. Using the wall and furniture and with my grandmother's reassurance and confidence in me, I myself gained confidence in my new ability. But walking also came with falling, with new challenges, and that included falling. Every time I stood up, I fell down, but then I got back up again. Then I stood up, then I fell back down again.

Eventually, my legs were strong enough for me to walk to the corner store to fetch oil and rice for my grandmother, just like the other children in my neighborhood did for their parents. Two years later, the Civil War in Somalia broke out, and my family and I immigrated to Canada. For the first time, I was able to see a doctor about my diagnosis, and he gave me two braces that reached up to my thighs and crutches for support. Most importantly, this is the time when I started going to school as well. This is the time I first felt ordinary because that's all I wanted to be growing up. I graduated from elementary school, graduated from high school, and I even went to college.

I was starting to feel ordinary once more. At that point, I've decided the next thing to do would be to get married. I fell in love and got married. I got pregnant. I went to go see my doctor, and she told me to be careful because I was high risk. A couple months later, as I was coming home from work, driving my car, I went down to the garage. I parked my car, and I walked to the elevator. As I was walking, the crutches I was given for support.

slid and I felt front forward onto the cold cement floor. I was 27 weeks and five days pregnant. I felt sharp, strong pain traveled down my stomach to my pelvis and to my back. But what was more concerning to me was I didn't know how I was going to get back up. Using my crutches once more, I was able to stand up, went into the elevator, got to my apartment, took a shower, and went to bed. The next morning, I woke up with craps, very strong dog craps. I immediately called my doctor, and she told me to go to the emergency room.

I went to the emergency room, but then I was sent to the labor and delivery ward. They didn't x-ray, and I sat in the room waiting for the doctor to come. I waited and waited and waited. Eventually he showed up with his head down, looking at the ground. He said, Safia, unfortunately, we were not able to detect. a viable heartbeat. You will need to be induced today. I was in disbelief.

I mean, just last week, my friends threw me a baby shower. And they gave me bottles, baby blankets, and a nursing pillow. I was looking forward to raising my son, playing with my son, even vaccinating my son, so he could have. an ordinary life, just as I imagine it to be. The next day I went home, I cried. I was angry. How could polio come back and take something

that was precious to me, just like that. Because my whole life, I have been fighting polio, and I have been beating polio, eating polio, but this time it felt like polio got me. But then, I realized I'm not the type of person that focuses on what ifs. I'm the type of person that focuses on what could be. I decided that I could get pregnant again, and I will have another child. Within months, I was pregnant, this time with a baby girl.

I took every precaution possible. I went on early maternity leave. I stayed home in the winter months and waited for my daughter to come into the world. In the summer of 2008, my daughter introduced herself to the world with the loudest cry I have ever heard in my life. Couple years after that, two years after that, I had another daughter, then a son. Now, I'm a mother of three. Just recently, I was at the store with my son at the cash register, and I fell, actually. I fell down.

And I said, really loudly, wait, it's okay, I'm fine, I always fall, but then I get back up. And my son looked back, and I said, hey, don't you think I'm getting a hang of this? I'm okay. I don't think I fall as much as I used to anymore. My son looked at me with a mischievous smile, and he said, Mom, you just fell in January, February, March, April. But then I realized, polio doesn't really affect our family, because we're just used to me falling. And I was like, okay, so this is our ordinary. And then I realized because at that point that I defeated polio and I wasn't just ordinary like I hope to be, but I was extraordinary.

Thank you. That was Safia Ibrahim. In addition to her advocacy work to eradicate polio, Safia promotes health education and supports people living with disabilities. She's a graduate of the Moth Global Community Program, and she lives in Ottawa, Canada, with her young family. To see photos of Safia and her three, beautiful children taken on Eid of last year, go to the moth.org.

Moth stories come from everyone. Carpenters, scientists, teachers, inventors, voodoo priestesses, really everyone. Consider telling your story at the moth. We want to hear from you. Find an open mic moth slam through our website, the moth.org, and please share this episode with a friend you think would love the moth and these stories. You can find us on social media, too. We're on Facebook at The Moth and on Instagram at Moth Stories. That's it for this episode of The Moth Radio Hour. We hope you'll join us next time.

This episode of The Moth Radio Hour, this episode of The Moth Radio Hour. Moth Radio Hour was produced by me, Jay Allison, and Sarah Austin Janess, who also hosted and directed the stories in the show with additional coaching from Julian Goldhagen and Chas Bruce in the Moth's education department. Co-producer is Vicki Merrick, Associate producer Emily Couch. The rest of the Moth's leadership team includes Sarah Haberman, Christina Norman, Jennifer Hickson, Kate Tellers, Marina Clucce, Suzanne Rust, Sarah Jane Johnson, and Patricia. Ureña. Moth stories are true as remembered and affirmed by the storytellers. Our theme music is by

the Drift, other music in this hour from Deluxe, Vincent Peerani, Emil Peresienne, Hugh Massacalla, Wolfpec, Ramsey Lewis Trio, and me and my friends. The Moth would like to thank the Gates Foundation for their support of the Moth's Global Community Program. We received funding from the National Endowment for the Arts. The Moth Radio hour is produced by Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts. Special thanks to our friends at Odyssey, including executive producer Leah Reese Dennis. For more about our podcast, for information on pitching us, your own story, and to learn all about the moth, go to our website, the moth.org.

Thank you.