From the Dream of Becoming a Doctor to the Hardship of Shoe Repair

At around nine each morning, street vendors and shopkeepers across the city prepare their goods. Among them is a young boy who arrives earlier than everyone else, setting up bottles of polish, brushes, and other cobbler tools neatly beside him, leaning against a wall.

This is 13-year-old Bilal Ahmad. For the past three years, he has come here every day to polish shoes and earn a few Afghanis to support his five-member family. Each morning at eight, he leaves home with his tools and walks to his workplace—he cannot afford transport.

Some days, he polishes just two or three pairs of shoes. If he’s lucky, he also does small repairs, earning between 10 to 40 Afghanis. But most of the time, he returns home with dry lips, an empty stomach, and empty hands.

Bilal says, “I’m the only provider for my family. My father died of a heart attack four years ago, and I’ve learned no other trade. I come here every day to work, but often there’s no work and I go home empty-handed. If I don’t do this, my family will starve.”

He recalls that due to economic hardship, he started this work at the age of ten, while he was still in fifth grade. He was forced to abandon his education. Bilal attributes his current situation to illiteracy and strongly believes everyone deserves education. He says that if he gets another chance, he wants to study, become a doctor, and never again roam the streets in search of a piece of bread.

“If we hadn’t faced economic problems,” he says, “I’d be in higher education now, supporting my family through knowledge. If God helps and our problems are solved, I want to complete my education and become a doctor, no matter how old I am.”

Wearing dusty dark clothes, he polishes men's black shoes. This trade was inherited from his father. Bilal doesn’t have a permanent home. He lives with his family in a rented room in the city, paying 1,500 Afghanis per month in rent and about 300 Afghanis for water.

He hasn’t earned enough lately and is two months behind on rent. His landlord has warned him to pay immediately. During our conversation, Bilal glanced around anxiously, hoping a customer might come. He says his family faces hunger and severe poverty.

“My work is poor,” he adds. “We live in a rented house. If I don’t pay the rent, our landlord will evict us. Often, my family goes to sleep hungry. No one helps us.”

Bilal’s ailing mother, Zainab, cooks bread in a neighborhood oven together with her three daughters and earns 2 Afghanis per loaf—about 60 Afghanis a day. She says she’s deeply troubled by her children’s illiteracy. She appeals to aid organizations to help her send her daughters—and especially Bilal—to school and let them learn.

Zainab explains, “We bake bread for four families in the oven and earn two Afghanis per loaf, about 60 Afghanis daily. My heart aches over my children’s lack of education. If someone helps us, my son would go to school and our problems would get solved.”

The story of this young cobbler is a poignant reminder of the thousands of orphans whose childhoods are stolen by poverty and lack of opportunities.

This comes as international aid to Afghanistan has decreased—after the end of U.S. funding, dozens of global organizations have closed operations, reducing humanitarian aid and pushing millions of Afghans further into economic hardship.