Nine-year-old Noor stood at the entrance to his third-grade classroom, holding his academic report with shaking hands. Highest rank. Once more. His instructor smiled with pride. His fellow students clapped. For a momentary, special moment, the nine-year-old boy thought his hopes of becoming a soldier—of helping his country, of causing his parents satisfied—were attainable.
That was three months ago.
Currently, Noor is not at school. He assists his dad in the carpentry workshop, studying to sand furniture instead of learning mathematics. His school attire remains in the wardrobe, clean but unworn. His learning materials sit stacked in the corner, their sheets no longer moving.
Noor didn't fail. His family did all they could. And even so, it wasn't enough.
This is the story of how economic struggle doesn't just limit opportunity—it destroys it totally, even for the most gifted children who do their very best and more.
While Outstanding Achievement Proves Enough
Noor Rehman's father works as a woodworker in the Laliyani area, a compact town in Kasur region, Punjab, Pakistan. He's skilled. He remains diligent. He departs home ahead of sunrise and comes back after sunset, his hands calloused from years of crafting wood into items, entries, and decorations.
On productive months, he makes around 20,000 rupees—roughly $70 USD. On slower months, even less.
From that earnings, his family of six people must cover:
- Accommodation for their small home
- Groceries for 4
- Bills (electric, water, gas)
- Doctor visits when children become unwell
- Transportation
- Apparel
- Additional expenses
The mathematics of financial hardship are basic and harsh. Money never stretches. Every coin is earmarked ahead of it's earned. Every decision is a selection between requirements, never between need more info and convenience.
When Noor's school fees needed payment—together with charges for his brothers' and sisters' education—his father faced an unsolvable equation. The figures wouldn't work. They never do.
Some cost had to be sacrificed. Someone had to sacrifice.
Noor, as the oldest, comprehended first. He's dutiful. He's mature beyond his years. He knew what his parents couldn't say explicitly: his education was the outlay they could not any longer afford.
He did not cry. He didn't complain. He simply folded his attire, arranged his textbooks, and asked his father to train him the trade.
Because that's what children in poor circumstances learn first—how to give up their dreams without complaint, without weighing down parents who are already shouldering greater weight than they can bear.