Noor, 24.

Noor didn’t speak much in class. She didn’t need to, her eyes did all the talking. Wide, cautious, always scanning. She learned early how to stay quiet and small.

Her sleeves were always long, even in the heat. Her drawings were done only in black. And when someone raised their voice, she would flinched. Not enough to alarm anyone, just enough for someone to maybe notice. But no one ever did.

Teachers called her shy. Neighbors heard arguments, crashes, crying and just turned up the TV. At home, the walls were thin. So was her safety.

Noor was surviving something she didn’t have the language for. And because no one asked, because no one saw her, she kept it all inside. It lived in her chest, in her stomach, in her posture. The pain stayed with her, even as she grew older.

Now, at 24, she’s sleeping on trains, showering in public bathrooms, and trying to convince herself this isn’t permanent. But this isn’t sudden. It started years ago in a quiet classroom, behind a closed door, in a house that never felt safe.

ALKOTÓ x Stichting Goud are telling Noor’s story because it’s not rare. It’s repeated. Childhood neglect doesn’t just disappear, it builds the foundation for adult survival. And when no one steps in early, the fall is just a matter of time.

When we didn’t care, Noor was still a child.

Now, we’re seeing the cost.