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| Behind Nguyen Le Tan Phat's impressive academic record of 12 years lies a dilapidated house and the weary, frail shoulders of his grandparents. Photo: Thu Hien |
For 18 years, I've never once been able to say "Mom."
People often say that 12th grade is the season of dreams and aspirations, but for Phat, it was a season of tears flowing backward. While his friends were pampered by their parents, with meals and sleep taken care of, Phat quietly sat in his cramped study corner with his old, worn-out textbooks, which were never enough.
Tragedy struck when Phat was not yet two years old. His parents divorced, and his mother disappeared without a trace. To this day, Phat has never once seen his mother's face, never once uttered the words "Mommy." His father, due to poor health, works as a security guard at a construction site far from home, and even with careful budgeting, he can only send home 1 million dong each month.
Phát and his sister were taken in and raised by their paternal grandparents. After graduating from vocational college, Phát's older sister got married and started her own family, but her life in rented accommodation was still too difficult, so she couldn't shoulder the responsibility for her younger sister's future.
Twelve years of studying, relying on the "remaining strength" of my grandparents.
In a dilapidated house in Trang Dai ward, only an orphaned grandchild and two elderly people, both over 70 years old, remain, relying on each other to struggle against the persistent poverty that has plagued them for so many years.















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