The Night was common. The smell of daal and freshly baked roti filled the compact, two-area house where Anwar Masih lived together with his spouse and two young children. Laughter echoed as his youngest daughter, Sara, recounted a story from college. It absolutely was a simple, sacred second of peace—an https://youtu.be/gPn_ICbEbdU
A Loved Ones's Cry: The Human Expense of Blasphemy Regulations in Pakistan
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