Noor Rehman was standing at the front of his third grade classroom, gripping his school grades with unsteady hands. Number one. Another time. His educator beamed with happiness. His schoolmates applauded. For a fleeting, special moment, the nine-year-old boy felt his hopes of being a soldier—of helping his nation, of causing his parents pleased—were achievable.
That was three months ago.
At present, Noor is not at school. He aids his dad in the wood shop, practicing to sand furniture rather than learning mathematics. His school attire sits in the cupboard, pristine but idle. His textbooks sit stacked in the corner, their pages no longer moving.
Noor passed everything. His family did their absolute best. And still, it wasn't enough.
This is the narrative of how financial hardship goes beyond limiting opportunity—it destroys it wholly, even for the brightest children who do all that's required and more.
Even when Top Results Proves Enough
Noor Rehman's parent labors as a woodworker in Laliyani village, a small community in Kasur, Punjab, Pakistan. He remains proficient. He's industrious. He leaves home before sunrise and gets home after nightfall, his hands hardened from many years of shaping wood into furniture, door frames, and ornamental items.
On successful months, he receives 20,000 Pakistani rupees—around seventy US dollars. On slower months, even less.
From that income, his household of six people must afford:
- Housing costs for their Pakistan humble home
- Meals for 4
- Bills (electricity, water supply, fuel)
- Healthcare costs when children fall ill
- Transportation
- Apparel
- Additional expenses
The arithmetic of poverty are basic and brutal. It's never sufficient. Every unit of currency is already spent before it's earned. Every choice is a choice between necessities, not once between necessity and luxury.
When Noor's educational costs came due—together with expenses for his siblings' education—his father confronted an unworkable equation. The figures failed to reconcile. They don't do.
Some cost had to give. Someone had to give up.
Noor, as the first-born, grasped first. He's dutiful. He's sensible beyond his years. He knew what his parents couldn't say explicitly: his education was the cost they could not afford.
He didn't cry. He did not complain. He just put away his school clothes, organized his learning materials, and requested his father to train him woodworking.
Since that's what children in hardship learn initially—how to relinquish their hopes silently, without weighing down parents who are currently shouldering more than they can bear.