Young Noor stood at the beginning of his Class 3 classroom, holding his report card with trembling hands. Top position. Once more. His instructor smiled with joy. His fellow students applauded. For a fleeting, special moment, the young boy believed his aspirations of being a soldier—of helping his homeland, of rendering his parents proud—were within reach.
That was 90 days ago.
Today, Noor has left school. He assists his dad in the carpentry workshop, learning to polish furniture in place of mastering mathematics. His school clothes hangs in the wardrobe, pristine but idle. His textbooks sit stacked in the corner, their pages no longer flipping.
Noor never failed. His household did everything right. And still, it couldn't sustain him.
This is the narrative of how financial hardship does more than restrict opportunity—it destroys it completely, even for the most talented children who do everything asked of them and more.
Even when Outstanding Achievement Is Not Adequate
Noor Rehman's parent toils as a carpenter in Laliyani, a modest village in Kasur district, Punjab, Pakistan. He is talented. He remains dedicated. He leaves home ahead of sunrise and comes back after sunset, his hands worn from decades of creating wood into items, door frames, and ornamental items.
On profitable months, he receives around 20,000 rupees—about 70 dollars. On challenging months, considerably less.
From that earnings, his family of six members must manage:
- Housing costs for their modest home
- Groceries for four children
- Services (power, water supply, cooking gas)
- Medicine when Education kids fall ill
- Travel
- Clothing
- Other necessities
The calculations of economic struggle are simple and brutal. Money never stretches. Every unit of currency is allocated prior to it's earned. Every selection is a choice between necessities, not once between necessity and extras.
When Noor's educational costs were required—along with expenses for his other children's education—his father confronted an unworkable equation. The figures wouldn't work. They don't do.
Some expense had to be eliminated. One child had to give up.
Noor, as the oldest, grasped first. He's dutiful. He remains sensible exceeding his years. He realized what his parents couldn't say explicitly: his education was the cost they could not afford.
He did not cry. He didn't complain. He merely stored his uniform, put down his books, and asked his father to instruct him the craft.
As that's what minors in financial struggle learn first—how to abandon their aspirations silently, without overwhelming parents who are currently carrying heavier loads than they can bear.