Noor Rehman stood at the beginning of his Class 3 classroom, holding his school grades with shaking hands. Number one. Another time. His instructor grinned with pride. His schoolmates cheered. For a brief, wonderful moment, the nine-year-old boy imagined his aspirations of being a soldier—of protecting his country, of making his parents proud—were within reach.
That was a quarter year ago.
Currently, Noor is not at school. He works with his father in the carpentry workshop, practicing to smooth furniture in place of mastering mathematics. His uniform rests in the wardrobe, unused but neat. His books sit piled in the corner, their leaves no longer moving.
Noor passed everything. His family did their absolute Pakistan best. And even so, it proved insufficient.
This is the account of how being poor does more than restrict opportunity—it eliminates it totally, even for the brightest children who do their very best and more.
While Top Results Isn't Enough
Noor Rehman's dad works as a furniture maker in Laliyani, a little village in Kasur district, Punjab, Pakistan. He remains experienced. He is industrious. He exits home before sunrise and returns after dark, his hands rough from decades of creating wood into items, door frames, and ornamental items.
On profitable months, he brings in around 20,000 rupees—around $70 USD. On lean months, considerably less.
From that wages, his household of six must afford:
- Rent for their small home
- Provisions for four children
- Utilities (power, water, gas)
- Medical expenses when children get sick
- Commute costs
- Clothes
- Other necessities
The arithmetic of being poor are uncomplicated and brutal. There's never enough. Every rupee is already spent before receiving it. Every decision is a decision between essentials, not once between need and convenience.
When Noor's tuition were required—together with charges for his brothers' and sisters' education—his father encountered an unsolvable equation. The math failed to reconcile. They don't do.
Some cost had to give. One child had to forgo.
Noor, as the first-born, understood first. He remains responsible. He remains sensible past his years. He understood what his parents couldn't say out loud: his education was the outlay they could no longer afford.
He did not cry. He did not complain. He only arranged his attire, arranged his learning materials, and inquired of his father to train him the trade.
Since that's what young people in financial struggle learn first—how to surrender their ambitions quietly, without weighing down parents who are currently managing more than they can handle.