The Evening was ordinary. The scent of daal and freshly baked roti filled the compact, two-area home wherever Anwar Masih lived with his wife and two kids. Laughter echoed as his youngest daughter, Sara, recounted a story from university. It absolutely was a simple, sacred minute of peace—an image of https://thirstyforgodchurch.blogspot.com/
A Family's Cry: The Human Cost Of Blasphemy Regulations in Pakistan
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