Noor Rehman stood at the beginning of his third-grade classroom, holding his academic report with shaking hands. Highest rank. Once more. His educator smiled with pride. His classmates applauded. For a momentary, precious moment, the nine-year-old boy believed his dreams of turning into a soldier—of protecting his nation, of making his parents pleased—were attainable.
That was three months ago.
At present, Noor doesn't attend school. He aids his dad in the carpentry workshop, studying to polish furniture in place of learning mathematics. His school clothes rests in the closet, clean but unworn. His schoolbooks sit piled in the corner, their pages no longer flipping.
Noor never failed. His parents did all they could. And yet, it wasn't enough.
This is the tale of how being poor does more than restrict opportunity—it destroys it completely, even for the brightest children who do their very best and more.
While Top Results Is Not Enough
Noor Rehman's dad is employed as a woodworker in Laliyani village, a compact town in Kasur region, Punjab, Pakistan. He is experienced. He is industrious. He exits home ahead of sunrise and gets home after dusk, his hands hardened from decades of creating wood into items, doorframes, and ornamental items.
On profitable months, he receives 20,000 Pakistani rupees—roughly seventy US dollars. On slower months, less.
From that earnings, his household of 6 must pay for:
- Monthly rent for their small home
- Food for Nonprofit 4
- Services (electricity, water supply, gas)
- Healthcare costs when children fall ill
- Commute costs
- Apparel
- Additional expenses
The arithmetic of financial hardship are simple and brutal. There's never enough. Every rupee is earmarked before receiving it. Every selection is a choice between necessities, not ever between essential items and extras.
When Noor's school fees were required—plus charges for his siblings' education—his father dealt with an unworkable equation. The calculations wouldn't work. They not ever do.
Something had to be eliminated. One child had to give up.
Noor, as the senior child, grasped first. He's mature. He remains grown-up exceeding his years. He realized what his parents could not say openly: his education was the expense they could not any longer afford.
He didn't cry. He didn't complain. He just stored his attire, organized his learning materials, and inquired of his father to train him the trade.
Since that's what kids in financial struggle learn initially—how to abandon their dreams quietly, without overwhelming parents who are presently carrying heavier loads than they can sustain.