A Dream Refuses to Die

I am Maya. I sell flowers at TSC on the University of Dhaka campus to earn my family’s bread and butter. 
Every day, I sit among the colours and fragrance of flowers, trying to make enough money to keep food on our plates. But behind those flowers, I carry a dream that poverty could not completely take away.

I studied up to Class 3. Then poverty quietly closed the door of my school. My books were put away, my uniform was left behind and I began sitting on the roadside with flowers in my hands. I still remember watching other children walk to school while I stayed behind, counting the flowers I had to sell.

My mother tells me that poverty is the reason my education had to end. For families like ours, survival often comes before dreams. When there is barely enough money for food and other necessities, education begins to look like a luxury, even though it should be a right.

But I have not stopped dreaming. I want to read and write better. I want to know more about the world beyond the streets where I sell flowers. Most of all, I want to return to school and build a future that is not decided by poverty.

I know there are many girls like me across Bangladesh. Some sell flowers, some work in homes, shops or factories. They grow up carrying responsibilities much heavier than their years, while their dreams slowly become smaller.
We do not need pity. We need opportunity�"the chance to learn, to grow and to dream beyond poverty.