The Night was ordinary. The smell of daal and freshly baked roti loaded the little, two-area house where by Anwar Masih lived with his spouse and two youngsters. Laughter echoed as his youngest daughter, Sara, recounted a Tale from university. It had been a simple, sacred minute of peace—an image https://youtu.be/gPn_ICbEbdU
A Family's Cry: The Human Price Of Blasphemy Guidelines in Pakistan
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