From Scrap to Self-Reliance: Abdul Wahab’s Journey

Abdul Wahab was still a child when his family fled their home in Kunduz, Afghanistan. War arrived without warning—first as a sound in the sky, then as fear that settled into everyday life. One winter morning, carrying only what they could hold, Abdul Wahab, his parents, and siblings began walking. Days turned into weeks as they crossed mountains and borders, eventually reaching Pakistan with blistered feet, empty hands, and no certainty of what lay ahead.

They lived first in a refugee camp, then on the margins of Islamabad. Survival became the family’s only plan. Abdul Wahab spent his days picking through garbage heaps, collecting scrap to sell—plastic bottles, tin cans, broken wire—anything that might earn a few rupees for bread. School was not a choice for people like him. Hunger, work, and silence filled his childhood.

One day, beside a pile of trash, a woman stopped her car and asked a simple question that changed everything: “But when do you go to school?”

Abdul Wahab had no answer. He had never been asked that before.

Two days later, she returned—and took him and his brother to Pehli Kiran School No. 3 (PKS-3). For the first time, Abdul Wahab sat on a mat among other children who looked like him. Children with worn shoes and borrowed uniforms—but also with notebooks, teachers, and a place to belong. A teacher placed a pencil in his hand and helped him write his name. Slowly, carefully, Abdul Wahab wrote the words that marked the beginning of a new life: Abdul Wahab.

At Pehli Kiran Schools, education was not only about letters and numbers. It was about being seen. Teachers noticed when students came hungry, when shoes were broken, when hope felt fragile. They taught with patience, consistency, and quiet dignity. Abdul Wahab learned to read, to write, to ask questions – and to imagine a future beyond survival.

When Abdul Wahab completed Class 5 at PKS-3, his journey did not stop. Pehli Kiran staff helped him secure admission in 6^th grade in a government school. Abdul Wahab continued studying while working to support his family. He completed his matriculation, enrolled in distance education, and slowly built stability through honest work.

Today, Abdul Wahab runs his own small recycling business in Islamabad. He employs others, earns a steady living, and supports his family with dignity. He is no longer the boy collecting scrap – he is a businessman, a mentor, and a proud alumnus of Pehli Kiran Schools.

Most importantly, he gives back. Abdul Wahab regularly returns to PKS classrooms. He sits beside children who remind him of himself – quiet, unsure, carrying the weight of hardship too early in life. He listens. He encourages. He reminds them that their story is still being written.

“I am not self-made,” Abdul Wahab says. “I was built by people who stopped when the world walked past.”

That is the impact of Pehli Kiran Schools. PKS does not merely educate—it interrupts poverty, restores dignity, and opens pathways where none seemed possible. One child at a time, it turns survival into opportunity, and opportunity into purpose.

Abdul Wahab’s journey began with a pencil, a mat on the floor, and a school that believed he mattered. For thousands of children like him, Pehli Kiran Schools provide the first rays of light.