Noor Rehman stood at the entrance to his Class 3 classroom, clutching his report card with shaking hands. First place. Again. His instructor grinned with satisfaction. His peers cheered. For a fleeting, special moment, the 9-year-old boy imagined his hopes of becoming a soldier—of defending his nation, of making his parents proud—were achievable.
That was several months back.
Currently, Noor doesn't attend school. He aids his dad in the woodworking shop, learning to polish furniture in place of learning mathematics. His school attire sits in the wardrobe, unused but neat. His schoolbooks sit stacked in the corner, their sheets no longer moving.
Noor passed everything. His family did all they could. And nevertheless, it fell short.
This is the narrative of how economic struggle doesn't just limit opportunity—it destroys it wholly, even for the brightest children who do what's expected and more.
Even when Outstanding Achievement Is Not Adequate
Noor Rehman's father works as a carpenter in Laliyani village, a little settlement in Kasur district, Punjab, Pakistan. He's skilled. He is diligent. He leaves home prior to sunrise and comes back after dusk, his hands calloused from many years of creating wood into pieces, entries, and embellishments.
On good months, he earns 20,000 Pakistani rupees—about seventy US dollars. On lean months, less.
From that income, his household of six must pay for:
- Rent for their little home
- Groceries for four
- Bills (electric, water, fuel)
- Healthcare costs when kids fall ill
- Transportation
- Garments
- Other necessities
The arithmetic of being poor are simple and cruel. There's always a shortage. Every rupee is already spent prior to earning it. Every choice is a choice between needs, not once between necessity and luxury.
When Noor's educational costs needed payment—together with expenses for his brothers' and sisters' education—his father dealt with an insurmountable equation. The figures failed to reconcile. They never do.
Some cost had to be eliminated. One child had to surrender.
Noor, as the senior child, comprehended first. He remains mature. He remains grown-up beyond his years. He knew what his parents couldn't say out loud: his education was the expenditure they could not afford.
He did not cry. He did not complain. He only folded his school clothes, put down his books, and requested his father to train him the trade.
As that's what minors in poor circumstances learn initially—how to give up their dreams without complaint, without burdening parents who are currently bearing Pakistan more than they can handle.