William wakes at three in the morning, working as a bin collector on the streets of Manchester. Thanks to his excellent school grades, he earned a scholarship to study at university. He dreams of becoming an engineer—not to get rich, but to build a better life and support his family.
It isn’t easy. Balancing work and studies means planning every minute. He rises at dawn, studying for an hour or two before heading out. By five, he’s already on his rounds, sometimes working past nine. He rushes back to his flat or public toilets to wash up as best he can. In winter, the cold bites deep. In summer, the sweat sticks.
Sometimes he’s late to lectures. Other times, even scrubbed clean, the lingering smell of refuse trails behind him. It’s not by choice—he can’t help it.
His classmates give him odd looks, keeping their distance. They whisper and snicker just loud enough for him to catch. A few dramatically crack windows open. Others crack jokes. No one sits beside him.
William keeps his head down, saying nothing. He opens his notebook and focuses. His hands sometimes shake from exhaustion. His eyelids grow heavy. But he pushes through—because he wants more. Because he won’t settle.
His professors notice. He answers questions well, engages in discussions, grasps concepts quickly. He never cheats. Never complains.
One day, after a tough exam, the professor strides in, stern. He announces everyone failed. The room falls silent. Then he adds, “Everyone except William.”
Mutterings erupt. Some are shocked, others irritated. “The prof must favour him,” “How does he even study?” they murmur.
The professor looks at William and asks, loud enough for all to hear, “What’s your secret, William?”
Nervous under the stares, William swallows hard. “I study aloud. I repeat topics till they stick. I make notes. Sometimes I record myself and listen back while working.”
Silence follows.
Later, the professor overhears a group mocking William. He stops them cold. “You’ve no idea what hard work is,” he says. “He’s up before dawn collecting rubbish while you’re still in bed. Yet here he is, outperforming all of you without a word of complaint. You should be ashamed. Learn from him instead of laughing.”
The students go quiet. Some look away. One approaches William to apologise. Another follows. The professor sits beside him. “Don’t let this grind you down, William. Life isn’t always fair, but what you’re doing matters. You’re not alone.”
William doesn’t say much. Just smiles. Inside, he feels it—every ounce of effort is worth it.
Don’t stop. Your worth isn’t in how others see you, but in what you do when no one’s there to lift you. Like William. Keep going. One day, it will all bear fruit. You deserve it.
