The Night was ordinary. The odor of daal and freshly baked roti stuffed the little, two-home property wherever Anwar Masih lived with his wife and two children. Laughter echoed as his youngest daughter, Sara, recounted a story from university. It absolutely was a simple, sacred second of peace—an image of https://youtu.be/gPn_ICbEbdU
A Loved Ones's Cry: The Human Price of Blasphemy Rules in Pakistan
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