Noor Rehman stood at the entrance to his third-grade classroom, gripping his report card with nervous hands. First place. Again. His instructor beamed with joy. His fellow students applauded. For a short, precious moment, the nine-year-old boy imagined his hopes of turning into a soldier—of protecting his homeland, of making his parents proud—were within reach.
That was a quarter year ago.
At present, Noor has left school. He aids his father in the carpentry workshop, practicing to finish furniture rather than mastering mathematics. His school attire hangs in the wardrobe, clean but unworn. His learning materials sit arranged in the corner, their leaves no longer turning.
Noor never failed. His parents did their absolute best. And nevertheless, it proved insufficient.
This is the account of how financial hardship goes beyond limiting opportunity—it removes it entirely, even for the smartest children who do what's expected and more.
While Superior Performance Isn't Sufficient
Noor Rehman's father works as a woodworker in Laliyani, a modest community in Kasur region, Punjab, Pakistan. He's skilled. He remains industrious. He leaves home ahead of sunrise and gets home after sunset, his hands rough from years of forming wood into products, entries, and decorative pieces.
On productive months, he brings in 20,000 Pakistani rupees—approximately seventy US dollars. On lean months, much less.
From that wages, his family of six must pay for:
- Housing costs for their humble home
- Food for four children
- Bills (power, water supply, cooking gas)
- Medical expenses when kids fall ill
- Travel
- Clothes
- All other needs
The mathematics of being poor are simple and cruel. There's never enough. Every unit of currency is committed ahead of receiving it. Every decision is a choice between requirements, never between need and Pakistan luxury.
When Noor's academic expenses were required—plus expenses for his other children's education—his father confronted an insurmountable equation. The figures wouldn't work. They never do.
Some cost had to be cut. Some family member had to surrender.
Noor, as the first-born, comprehended first. He is dutiful. He's sensible past his years. He knew what his parents wouldn't say explicitly: his education was the expenditure they could not any longer afford.
He did not cry. He didn't complain. He simply stored his attire, put down his books, and asked his father to show him carpentry.
As that's what minors in hardship learn earliest—how to relinquish their hopes without complaint, without weighing down parents who are already managing more than they can handle.