32 bullets, he took ‘em all, to shield others from unrelenting guns
By Baba Umar
It was the morning of January 21, 1990. The sun came up without much sparkle but it shone on young Rauf’s face for the last time. For, by noon, he was lying on the ground in his favourite blue jacket and green shoes, his body pierced by a hail of troopers’ bullets...
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