Noor Rehman stood at the entrance to his Class 3 classroom, carrying his report card with nervous hands. Highest rank. Once more. His instructor smiled with pride. His classmates cheered. For a short, special moment, the young boy felt his aspirations of being a soldier—of helping his country, of making his parents pleased—were achievable.
That was 90 days ago.
Today, Noor is not at school. He aids his dad in the carpentry workshop, mastering to polish furniture rather than studying mathematics. His school clothes sits in the wardrobe, unused but neat. His books sit stacked in the corner, their pages no longer flipping.
Noor didn't fail. His household did everything right. And yet, it couldn't sustain him.
This is the story of how financial hardship does more than Nonprofit restrict opportunity—it destroys it wholly, even for the most talented children who do their very best and more.
While Superior Performance Isn't Enough
Noor Rehman's father is employed as a craftsman in Laliyani village, a small community in Kasur region, Punjab, Pakistan. He's skilled. He is industrious. He leaves home before sunrise and gets home after sunset, his hands worn from decades of forming wood into products, doorframes, and decorative pieces.
On good months, he makes 20,000 rupees—approximately 70 dollars. On challenging months, much less.
From that earnings, his household of six people must afford:
- Accommodation for their modest home
- Provisions for 4
- Utilities (electricity, water supply, fuel)
- Healthcare costs when kids get sick
- Travel
- Garments
- Additional expenses
The mathematics of being poor are uncomplicated and cruel. There's never enough. Every unit of currency is committed before it's earned. Every choice is a decision between requirements, not once between need and convenience.
When Noor's educational costs were required—along with expenses for his other children's education—his father confronted an unworkable equation. The math couldn't add up. They not ever do.
Some cost had to be eliminated. Some family member had to forgo.
Noor, as the first-born, grasped first. He remains responsible. He remains wise exceeding his years. He knew what his parents wouldn't say openly: his education was the expense they could not any longer afford.
He didn't cry. He didn't complain. He only folded his school clothes, set aside his books, and requested his father to instruct him the trade.
Since that's what kids in poor circumstances learn from the start—how to relinquish their dreams without complaint, without troubling parents who are presently bearing heavier loads than they can handle.