Noor Rehman was standing at the front of his third-grade classroom, clutching his grade report with trembling hands. First place. Another time. His instructor beamed with happiness. His peers cheered. For a momentary, special moment, the young boy felt his aspirations of turning into a soldier—of defending his homeland, of making his parents satisfied—were attainable.
That was 90 days ago.
Currently, Noor has left school. He aids his father in the woodworking shop, practicing to finish furniture in place of mastering mathematics. His uniform hangs in Social Impact the cupboard, unused but neat. His learning materials sit placed in the corner, their leaves no longer flipping.
Noor never failed. His parents did all they could. And yet, it couldn't sustain him.
This is the tale of how poverty does more than restrict opportunity—it removes it completely, even for the most gifted children who do their very best and more.
Even when Outstanding Achievement Proves Enough
Noor Rehman's dad is employed as a carpenter in the Laliyani area, a small community in Kasur, Punjab, Pakistan. He's proficient. He's dedicated. He departs home before sunrise and returns after dusk, his hands hardened from years of shaping wood into items, door frames, and decorations.
On profitable months, he receives around 20,000 rupees—approximately seventy US dollars. On challenging months, considerably less.
From that income, his family of six members must cover:
- Rent for their little home
- Provisions for four
- Utilities (electric, water, cooking gas)
- Doctor visits when kids fall ill
- Travel
- Clothing
- Everything else
The arithmetic of financial hardship are uncomplicated and unforgiving. Money never stretches. Every rupee is already spent before earning it. Every choice is a selection between essentials, never between need and luxury.
When Noor's school fees needed payment—plus charges for his brothers' and sisters' education—his father dealt with an insurmountable equation. The math failed to reconcile. They not ever do.
Some cost had to be eliminated. Someone had to sacrifice.
Noor, as the oldest, comprehended first. He remains conscientious. He's mature beyond his years. He comprehended what his parents could not say explicitly: his education was the outlay they could no longer afford.
He did not cry. He did not complain. He simply put away his school clothes, organized his textbooks, and asked his father to instruct him woodworking.
As that's what minors in hardship learn earliest—how to surrender their ambitions without complaint, without weighing down parents who are currently managing more than they can handle.