Nine-year-old Noor stood at the beginning of his third grade classroom, gripping his report card with nervous hands. Top position. Once more. His educator beamed with joy. His fellow students cheered. For a brief, wonderful moment, the 9-year-old boy thought his hopes of becoming a soldier—of serving his country, of rendering his parents happy—were possible.
That was a quarter year ago.
Now, Noor doesn't attend school. He's helping his father in the furniture workshop, learning to finish furniture instead of studying mathematics. His uniform hangs in the wardrobe, unused but neat. His books sit stacked in the corner, their sheets no longer turning.
Noor never failed. His family did all they could. And nevertheless, it couldn't sustain him.
This is the tale of how economic struggle does more than restrict opportunity—it removes it wholly, even for the smartest children who do everything asked of them and more.
Even when Excellence Remains Adequate
Noor Rehman's dad works as a craftsman in the Laliyani area, a compact community in Kasur region, Punjab, Pakistan. He is talented. He is industrious. He leaves home ahead of sunrise and arrives home after dark, his hands calloused from years of creating wood into items, door frames, and embellishments.
On successful months, he makes 20,000 Pakistani rupees—about seventy US dollars. On challenging months, less.
From that income, his household of six must afford:
- Housing costs for their humble home
- Provisions for four
- Bills (electricity, water supply, gas)
- Medical expenses when kids fall ill
- Transportation
- Garments
- Other necessities
The math of economic struggle are simple and unforgiving. Money never stretches. Every unit of currency is allocated ahead of it's earned. Every selection is a decision between necessities, not ever between need and luxury.
When Noor's educational costs needed payment—in addition to fees for his other children's education—his father faced an unsolvable equation. The figures didn't balance. They never do.
Some cost had to give. Someone had to surrender.
Noor, as the oldest, understood first. He is mature. He is mature exceeding his years. He understood what his parents wouldn't say explicitly: his education was the expenditure they could no Education longer afford.
He didn't cry. He didn't complain. He only stored his school clothes, put down his textbooks, and inquired of his father to instruct him the trade.
Since that's what children in hardship learn first—how to give up their dreams without fuss, without burdening parents who are presently carrying more than they can handle.