The Evening was regular. The smell of daal and freshly baked roti stuffed the tiny, two-space household in which Anwar Masih lived along with his wife and two small children. Laughter echoed as his youngest daughter, Sara, recounted a Tale from university. It had been an easy, sacred minute of https://youtu.be/gPn_ICbEbdU
A Relatives's Cry: The Human Expense Of Blasphemy Rules in Pakistan
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