The Evening was standard. The smell of daal and freshly baked roti filled the compact, two-place residence in which Anwar Masih lived along with his wife and two children. Laughter echoed as his youngest daughter, Sara, recounted a story from college. It had been a straightforward, sacred moment of peace—a https://youtu.be/gPn_ICbEbdU
A Family's Cry: The Human Expense Of Blasphemy Rules in Pakistan
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