The next Waseem
I HAVE eight columns left to write this year after this one. I said the last two months should be different. Cheerful maybe. Insightful, at least. Something new. Then Waseem Abbas happened. He was 15. His father died nine years ago. His mother remarried. A grandfather and an uncle took turns looking after him until they could not. Then they took him to an orphanage in Multan. His grandfather sa...
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