Noor Rehman stood at the front of his third grade classroom, gripping his academic report with trembling hands. Top position. Another time. His teacher grinned with satisfaction. His schoolmates cheered. For a brief, special moment, the young boy felt his ambitions of turning into a soldier—of serving his homeland, of making his parents pleased—were achievable.
That was 90 days ago.
At present, Noor is not at school. He's helping his father in the furniture click here workshop, practicing to smooth furniture in place of studying mathematics. His school clothes sits in the wardrobe, clean but unworn. His textbooks sit placed in the corner, their pages no longer moving.
Noor didn't fail. His household did their absolute best. And still, it fell short.
This is the story of how financial hardship doesn't just limit opportunity—it removes it wholly, even for the most talented children who do everything asked of them and more.
Despite Superior Performance Proves Adequate
Noor Rehman's parent works as a craftsman in Laliyani, a little town in Kasur, Punjab, Pakistan. He's experienced. He's industrious. He exits home before sunrise and comes back after nightfall, his hands calloused from decades of shaping wood into items, doorframes, and decorations.
On good months, he makes around 20,000 rupees—about seventy US dollars. On challenging months, considerably less.
From that income, his household of six members must pay for:
- Housing costs for their little home
- Groceries for four children
- Bills (electric, water, cooking gas)
- Medicine when children fall ill
- Transportation
- Apparel
- Other necessities
The arithmetic of being poor are uncomplicated and unforgiving. Money never stretches. Every unit of currency is allocated before earning it. Every decision is a decision between necessities, not once between essential items and convenience.
When Noor's school fees came due—in addition to charges for his brothers' and sisters' education—his father confronted an unsolvable equation. The figures failed to reconcile. They don't do.
Something had to be cut. Someone had to give up.
Noor, as the first-born, grasped first. He's conscientious. He is mature past his years. He realized what his parents were unable to say aloud: his education was the cost they could not any longer afford.
He didn't cry. He did not complain. He only folded his attire, put down his textbooks, and asked his father to instruct him the craft.
As that's what minors in hardship learn initially—how to give up their aspirations silently, without burdening parents who are presently managing greater weight than they can handle.