The Night was common. The smell of daal and freshly baked roti filled the compact, two-area residence exactly where Anwar Masih lived along with his spouse and two little ones. Laughter echoed as his youngest daughter, Sara, recounted a Tale from university. It was an easy, sacred instant of peace—a https://thirstyforgodchurch.blogspot.com/
A Loved Ones's Cry: The Human Price of Blasphemy Legislation in Pakistan
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