The Night was everyday. The smell of daal and freshly baked roti filled the compact, two-area house the place Anwar Masih lived with his wife and two children. Laughter echoed as his youngest daughter, Sara, recounted a Tale from college. It was a straightforward, sacred instant of peace—a picture of https://youtu.be/gPn_ICbEbdU
A Family's Cry: The Human Cost Of Blasphemy Guidelines in Pakistan
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