The Evening was regular. The odor of daal and freshly baked roti crammed the little, two-place residence where Anwar Masih lived with his spouse and two kids. Laughter echoed as his youngest daughter, Sara, recounted a story from university. It absolutely was a simple, sacred moment of peace—a picture of https://youtu.be/gPn_ICbEbdU
A Loved Ones's Cry: The Human Price of Blasphemy Regulations in Pakistan
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