Noor Rehman was standing at the entrance to his Class 3 classroom, holding his report card with unsteady hands. Highest rank. Yet again. His educator beamed with satisfaction. His classmates clapped. For a momentary, wonderful moment, the nine-year-old boy believed his hopes of being a soldier—of serving his nation, of rendering his parents satisfied—were achievable.
That was a quarter year ago.
Today, Noor is not at school. He assists his father in the wood shop, learning to finish furniture in place of mastering mathematics. His uniform hangs in the wardrobe, clean but unworn. His books sit arranged in the corner, their leaves no longer flipping.
Noor didn't fail. His parents did everything right. And nevertheless, it wasn't enough.
This is the narrative of how being poor goes beyond limiting opportunity—it eliminates it entirely, even for the smartest children who do everything asked of them and more.
Even when Excellence Is Not Adequate
Noor Rehman's father labors as a woodworker in the Laliyani area, a compact settlement in Kasur district, Punjab, Pakistan. He is experienced. He's hardworking. He leaves home prior to sunrise and comes back after dusk, his hands hardened from decades of forming wood into furniture, doorframes, and embellishments.
On successful months, he brings in 20,000 Pakistani rupees—around 70 dollars. On challenging months, even less.
From that wages, his family of six members must manage:
- Housing costs for their small home
- Meals for 4
- Bills (power, water supply, fuel)
- Doctor visits when kids become unwell
- Transportation
- Garments
- Everything else
The math of being poor are basic and harsh. There's always a shortage. Every unit of currency is allocated ahead of receiving it. Every decision is a selection between necessities, not ever between essential items and extras.
When Noor's academic expenses came due—together with charges for his siblings' education—his father faced an unsolvable equation. The numbers wouldn't work. They not ever do.
Some cost had to give. One child had to give up.
Noor, as the oldest, understood first. He remains responsible. He remains mature exceeding his years. He realized what his Pakistan parents were unable to say openly: his education was the expense they could not afford.
He did not cry. He didn't complain. He simply put away his attire, put down his textbooks, and requested his father to show him carpentry.
Because that's what young people in poor circumstances learn first—how to give up their ambitions without fuss, without troubling parents who are currently shouldering more than they can sustain.