Nine-year-old Noor stood at the front of his third-grade classroom, gripping his school grades with nervous hands. Number one. Again. His educator smiled with joy. His classmates cheered. For a momentary, special moment, the 9-year-old boy felt his aspirations of being a soldier—of helping his country, of making his parents satisfied—were possible.
That was three months ago.
Currently, Noor is not at school. He assists his father in the wood shop, mastering to smooth furniture in place of learning mathematics. His school attire remains in the wardrobe, clean but unworn. His textbooks sit arranged in the corner, their leaves no longer moving.
Noor never failed. His household did their absolute best. And nevertheless, it couldn't sustain him.
This is the narrative of how financial hardship does more than restrict opportunity—it erases it totally, even for the most talented children who do what's expected and more.
Even when Excellence Proves Sufficient
Noor Rehman's parent works as a carpenter in the Laliyani area, a compact town in Kasur region, Punjab, Pakistan. He is experienced. He is diligent. He leaves home before sunrise and returns after dusk, his hands worn from decades of crafting wood into furniture, frames, and embellishments.
On successful months, he brings in 20,000 Pakistani rupees—around $70 USD. On challenging months, less.
From that salary, his household of six people must cover:
- Accommodation for their Social Impact little home
- Groceries for 4
- Utilities (electricity, water, cooking gas)
- Medical expenses when children get sick
- Transportation
- Apparel
- Everything else
The calculations of economic struggle are straightforward and unforgiving. There's never enough. Every rupee is allocated prior to it's earned. Every selection is a choice between needs, never between essential items and extras.
When Noor's educational costs needed payment—plus charges for his siblings' education—his father encountered an insurmountable equation. The calculations failed to reconcile. They don't do.
Some cost had to give. Some family member had to surrender.
Noor, as the senior child, understood first. He's responsible. He remains mature beyond his years. He understood what his parents could not say openly: his education was the cost they could no longer afford.
He did not cry. He did not complain. He merely put away his school clothes, arranged his learning materials, and requested his father to teach him carpentry.
As that's what children in financial struggle learn from the start—how to give up their aspirations quietly, without weighing down parents who are presently bearing heavier loads than they can manage.