'Freedom Convoy' organizer asks for stay of proceedings after guilty verdict
OTTAWA — "Freedom Convoy" organizer Chris Barber has asked for a stay of proceedings, two weeks after an Ontario judge found him and Tamara Lich guilty of mischief for their roles in the 2022 mass protest in Ottawa.
According to a news release from the non-profit helping his defence, Barber is arguing the proceedings should be halted because he "sought advice from lawyers, police and a Superior Court Judge" on the legality of the protest.
The application was filed a day after Barber learned Crown prosecutors were pursuing a two-year prison sentence, according to the news release from the Justice Centre for Constitutional Freedoms.
The organization said the application, if successful, would allow Barber to avoid jail time.
Barber and Lich were key figures and in the protest that saw hundreds of vehicles and thousands of people occupy downtown Ottawa and insist they would remain until COVID-19 public health mandates were eliminated.
In finding them guilty, the trial judge concluded the evidence showed Barber had encouraged people to join or remain at the protest, despite knowing the adverse effect it was having on downtown residents and businesses.
This report by The Canadian Press was first published April 17, 2025.
The Canadian Press staff

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles


Hamilton Spectator
7 hours ago
- Hamilton Spectator
‘Pretendian' or ‘victim': Inside this would-be Ontario lawyer's attempt to remake a life built on fraud
Before the headlines, Nadya Gill's life was filled with promise. Originally from the GTA, she played on Canada's youth national soccer team . At 16, she entered university in the U.S. on athletic scholarships, where she excelled on the pitch and in the classroom and earned the first of five post-secondary degrees. A coach told a Connecticut TV station her competitive drive could easily lead her to becoming a lawyer, a doctor, or 'a UN ambassador.' She graduated from law school, where she won awards and worked summers at the Crown law office in Toronto. After passing the bar exam, she landed a dream articling position at a sports law firm. It allowed her to work remotely and play professional soccer in Norway . Then came the rumblings online; her life fell apart — and she had to pick a new name. Two years ago, Nadya Gill and her twin, Amira, now 26, were outed as 'pretendians,' first by online sleuths and then a reporter in Nunavut , for falsely claiming to be Inuit to receive scholarships and grants. In September 2023, the RCMP charged the sisters and their mother, Karima Manji, with fraud. Last year, it was Manji alone who pleaded guilty, admitting she sent enrolment forms to Nunavut Tunngavik Incorporated (NTI) with the false information that she'd adopted her own daughters from an Iqaluit woman. The forms were approved and she was provided enrolment cards that entitled the twins access to benefits earmarked for Inuit students. Manji had in fact given birth to her daughters in Mississauga in 1998. In court, it was revealed that the girls had received more than $158,000 for their education from September 2020 to March 2023. To many, Nadya's successes were a slap in the face and a reminder of the harm caused by more famous Canadians who've been exposed for falsely claiming to be Indigenous. In March 2024, Toronto Life magazine published an exposé on the family under the headline, 'The Great Pretenders: How two faux-Inuit sisters cashed in on a life of deception.' It went to press before a judge in Iqaluit sentenced Manji to three years in prison and called the twins 'victims.' On a warm sunny morning this past week in an Etobicoke park not far from where she grew up, the Star spoke with Nadya Gill under her new name, Jordan Archer, about her involvement in Canada's first criminal case of Indigenous identity fraud. It's the first time she has spoken publicly about the scandal that she says has destroyed her life. In the basic facts, Archer's story is this: She's a first-generation Canadian, born to a mother who immigrated from Tanzania and lived for only a brief period in Nunavut. Her father, Gurmail Gill, is British. No member of the family is Inuit, nor of Indigenous background. Still, Archer says, the story the public thinks they know is wrong — not that her version will convince everyone who sees her as a villain. For the first time since the scandal broke in 2023, Jordan Archer speaks about being at the centre of Canada's first criminal case of Indigenous identity fraud. 'How would you have expected me to know,' Archer says, referring to her teenage self while sitting on a park bench in athletic wear after jumping off an old hybrid bike. 'Put yourself in my shoes. If your mom came up to you, gave you the story, with proof.' 'Proof,' Archer says, was the Inuit enrolment card her mother applied for — by outright fraud — in February 2016, when Archer was 17 and already going to school in the U.S. Like many teens, Archer says she was only too happy to let her mother handle all her applications, finances and logistics. Manji was controlling, the kind of 'soccer mom' who would scold her daughter after a match if she hadn't performed up to her standards. She was also someone a judge would call a 'habitual and persistent fraudster.' At the time she filed the false applications, Manji was already facing serious fraud charges. In August 2017, she was sentenced to defrauding the charity March of Dimes, her longtime employer, of $850,000, for which she received a non-custodial sentence after reimbursing $650,000. Karima Manji, seen after her arrest in the March of Dimes fraud case. As unlikely as it may sound — the case was publicized — Archer says she wasn't aware of those charges until much later. At the time, she was living in the U.S. and had distanced herself from her mom, who still controlled many of her life decisions. She returned home from school in the U.S. at 20, which is when Manji told her: 'You're going to Saskatchewan … to a program where you'll do property law in the summer. It's for Indigenous students.' That's when, she says, Manji presented her with 'officially issued proof' — the Inuit enrolment card — and told her 'the story.' Manji had lived in Iqaluit in the '90s and had grown close to an Inuit family. That much was true. As her mother explained, when the father became ill with cancer, Manji took care of a daughter. That connection, Manji lied, had made her eligible for Inuit enrolment and, by extension, so were her daughters. Should Archer have questioned things? Maybe. But she says she believed her mother. In the interview, she likened the logic of her mom's explanation to a marriage — it wasn't a blood tie but 'a connection.' (In retrospect, this explanation is nonsense. To qualify, an applicant must both be Inuk according to Inuit customs and identify as an Inuk .) Still, Archer emphasizes that she accepted and embraced the connection she now thought she had — believing in some way that 'I belonged to the Iqaluit community.' She says she immersed herself in learning about Indigenous culture and participated in ceremonies, activities and educational sessions. She volunteered for the Akwesasne Community Justice Program and facilitated Kairos blanket exercises where participants step into roles of Indigenous groups throughout Canadian history. If she knew about the fraud, why would she do that, she asks. 'I think if you're trying to hide something, you stay under the radar.' As for what the card meant, Archer says she was kept in the dark as her mom secured tens of thousands of dollars for her education. 'I know the card gets you benefits, you have some kind of status with it, but I had no idea what (Manji) was doing with it.' Who questions their parents about things that happened before they were born, she asks? 'I know my dad's from England … I didn't say, 'Show me your birth certificate.'' The Iqaluit RCMP charged both Manji and the twins with defrauding the NTI — the organization tasked with enrolling Inuit children under the Nunavut Land Claims Agreement — in September 2023. As is often the case with fraud, the big lie ended up being trivially easy to disprove. Manji had written on the application forms that Nadya and Amira were the birth daughters of a real Inuk woman named Kitty Noah, and then the application was approved without a shred of proof. (While there's no question her mother 'dug this hole,' Archer asks how the bogus application forms could have been accepted without a birth certificate.) Manji then used the girls' status cards to apply for benefits from Kakivak Association, an organization that, among other things, provides sponsorship funding to help Inuit students from Baffin Island pay for education. By early 2023, while Archer was articling and had already played in Norway, social media users began questioning the story of the successful 'Inuit' sisters from Toronto with the South Asian names. 'Our communities are small, we know each other. We know of each other and our families. There are only around 70,000 of us in Canada,' famed Inuk throat singer Tanya Tagaq wrote in a tweet asking how the twins could get scholarships meant for Inuit students. 'The resources and supports are limited.' In late March 2023, a reporter with Nunatsiaq News asked Amira to respond to the social media allegations. In a statement, Amira passed on Manji's story, that the twins' 'Inuit family ties' were through a family her mother had lived with. (Amira Gill declined to be interviewed for this story. 'My sister has chosen to keep her life personal, away from the public eye,' Archer said when asked about her twin.) But that's not what Manji put on the form; NTI soon released a statement that Noah was not the twins' birth mother and asked the RCMP to investigate. Kitty Noah has since died. When she found out she'd been listed on the application, she was 'flabbergasted,' her son later told CBC . Today, Archer says she struggles to make ends meet. She's working part-time at a hockey rink as a community service representative, 'directing people to the lost and found.' A Zamboni driver recently asked about her background. 'How much time do you have?' Archer told him, recalling the exchange. 'No matter what career I try to explore, I don't want this to come back.' She lost friends along with her articling job. In the wake of the case, the Law Society of Ontario initiated an investigation into her status as a lawyer. To practise law in Ontario, applicants for a licence must be of 'good character'; Archer feels she has no choice but to abandon a law career, at least at this point. She says she used to be puzzled when people described being debilitated by stress, but 'now, I really, really do understand. There were months when I wouldn't move or go anywhere.' Last fall, Archer thought she'd found a lifeline and signed a contract to play pro soccer. She felt she had been forthright about her past before signing but, ultimately, the league decided to rescind its approval of the contract. She was devastated. But it was also a 'turning point' — the realization she had to do something to try to clear the air and provide a 'fulsome' picture of the story. 'No matter what career I try to explore, I don't want this to come back.' She's since written a memoir, titling it 'When Life Conspired Against Me.' A summary provided to the Star described the book as an examination of the toll of the public backlash that destroyed her professional reputation. She's 'a victim of online bullying and was crucified in the media, despite not being involved in the fraud,' the summary reads. (The book does not have a publisher.) 'I'm serving a life sentence for a crime I didn't commit,' Archer says in a prepared blurb. 'I was the victim, but that means nothing when the court of public opinion plays both judge and executioner. In their story, I'm the villain, and that's all that matters.' Looking back, Archer says she now knows her mom would have pursued any chance at an advantage. 'She saw, you know, a bureaucratic loophole and she just went for it,' she says. 'Whether it was an Indigenous community or any other community, she would have just gone for it.' Confronting her mom was 'one of the hardest things I've ever had to do,' she told the Star in the days after the interview. Their relationship is messy, she adds. 'She didn't just hurt me, she detonated my life … and yet she's my mom.' She feels a 'heavy, inescapable obligation' to still be there for her mother, but 'supporting her didn't mean forgetting the harm. It didn't mean pretending everything was OK.' Soon after Manji pleaded guilty last year, the Crown withdrew the charges against Nadya and Amira. In response, the then-president of NTI called the withdrawal of charges against the twins 'unacceptable.' The twins 'benefitted from their mother's fraud scheme, and yet their role in the scheme will go unanswered,' Aluki Kotierk told Toronto Life. There's little chance Archer's story will convince anyone who believes she should have known. 'How can they say they didn't know they were not Inuit,' one First Nations advocate wrote on X. To those skeptics, Archer says she never claimed to be Inuk by blood; that was her mom's lie. Still, she hopes the doubters read the judge's words. Karima Manji, who is not Indigenous, pleaded guilty to one count of fraud over $5,000, after her twin daughters used fake Inuit status to receive Karima Manji, who is not Indigenous, pleaded guilty to one count of fraud over $5,000, after her twin daughters used fake Inuit status to receive 'The true victims of Ms. Manji's crime are the Inuit of Nunavut,' Iqaluit judge Mia Manocchio wrote . Manji 'defrauded the Inuit of Nunavut by stealing their identity. She has further victimized the Noah family and the memory of Kitty Noah. This is an egregious example of the exploitation of Indigenous Peoples.' 'Finally,' Manocchio continued, 'Ms. Manji has victimized her own children, her two daughters, whose lives and careers have been severely compromised by her fraud.' Manji is now serving a three-year sentence — a term that, the judge wrote, serves as 'a signal to any future Indigenous pretender that the false appropriation of Indigenous identity in a criminal context will draw a significant penalty.' Manji was also ordered to pay back $28,254 — what remained after she had already reimbursed $130,000. (Not that the 'proven fraudster' deserved any credit for paying back the fruits of her crimes, Manocchio wrote — 'if such were the case, then a fraudster with means could essentially buy their way into a reduced prison term, whereas an impecunious fraudster would serve the longer term.') Reached by phone at a halfway house, where she was in the middle of drywalling, Manji, 60, insisted to the Star that Nadya — she doesn't call her Jordan — was unaware of the scheme. 'I never, ever said a word to Nadya,' she said. 'She trusted me 120 per cent, if you can imagine, when this all started, she was in the States … her whole focus was on soccer.' Manji said she is appalled by the hurt she caused not only to Inuit communities, but to her own children, 'especially Nadya.' (The girls have an older brother.) While serving some of her sentence at Grand Valley Institution for Women in Kitchener, Manji said it would take weeks to read her daughter's letters, because 'I just feel so awful.' Unprompted, Manji offers up an explanation for her actions: She was brought up in a strict, conservative family and believed that if you were a doctor, lawyer or engineer, 'you would do fine in life.' She had an unhappy upbringing and marriage and wanted to make sure her kids didn't go through that. 'If I made sure they were successful in terms of their education and career, that they wouldn't have to have gone through what I've gone through,' she says.


Hamilton Spectator
8 hours ago
- Hamilton Spectator
U.S. ambassador says Canadians facing device searches, detainment ‘not a pattern'
OTTAWA - The American ambassador to Canada is pushing back on Ottawa's travel advice, saying his country doesn't search phones at the border and arguing some Americans travelling here are having a tough time. 'We welcome Canadians to come in and invest, to spend their hard-earned Canadian dollars at U.S. businesses,' U.S. Ambassador Pete Hoekstra told The Canadian Press in an interview Friday. 'If a Canadian has had a disappointing experience coming into the United States, I'm not denying that it happened, but I'm saying it's an isolated event and it is not a pattern.' In April, Ottawa updated its advice to Canadians travelling to the United States to warn them about the possibility they might be detained if denied entry. 'Expect scrutiny at ports of entry, including of electronic devices,' reads the new guidance. There have been reports of Canadians facing intensified scrutiny at the border, having phones searched and, in some cases, being detained. Hoekstra insisted concerns about device searches are not grounded in reality. 'Coming to the U.S., that's a decision for the Canadians to make. Searching devices and all of that is not a well-founded fear. We don't do that. America is a welcoming place,' he said. He said some Americans have expressed similar concerns about Canada. 'I've heard that from Americans coming into Canada as well, OK? Saying, 'You know, we've not received a warm reception when we've gotten to Canadian customs,'' he said. When asked if these reports from American travellers involve arbitrary phone searches and lengthy detainment, Hoekstra said there are consular cases of Americans complaining to the embassy about the Canada Border Services Agency. 'We've said, 'OK this may have been an isolated event. There may have been a Canadian border person who was having a bad day, and thought they'd take it out on, you know, somebody across the border,'' he said. In a statement, the CBSA said its officers follow a code of conduct and the federal ethics code that both require them to treat everyone equally, and the agency investigates any complaints of mistreatment. 'Employees are expected to conduct themselves in a way that upholds the values of integrity, respect and professionalism at all times,' wrote spokeswoman Karine Martel. 'Treating people with respect, dignity and fairness is fundamental to our border services officers' relationship with the public and a key part of this is serving all travellers in a non-discriminatory way.' Hoekstra said travel to the U.S. is up to individuals. 'If you decide that you're not going to come down or whatever, that's your decision and you're missing an opportunity. There are great things to see in America,' Hoekstra said. He also noted the case of CNN journalist Christiane Amanpour, who recently said she prepared to visit the U.S. last month as if she was 'going to North Korea' — with a 'burner phone' that didn't carry any personal information — only to experience a warm welcome. 'It's like, (let's) get past the rhetoric and let's look at the real experiences that people are having here,' Hoekstra said. Airlines have been cutting flights between Canada and the U.S. due to a slump in demand, and Flight Centre Travel Group Canada reported a nearly 40 per cent drop in flights between the two countries year-over-year in February. A survey in early May conducted by Leger Marketing for the Association for Canadian Studies found 52 per cent of respondents feel that 'it is no longer safe for all Canadians travelling to the United States,' with 29 per cent disagreeing and 19 per cent saying they were unsure. Roughly the same proportion said they personally feel unwelcome in the U.S. LGBTQ+ groups have opted against attending World Pride events in Washington and United Nations events in New York, citing scrutiny at the border as the Trump administration scales back protections for transgender and nonbinary people. This report by The Canadian Press was first published June 7, 2025.
Yahoo
8 hours ago
- Yahoo
Who won the first NYC Democratic mayoral primary debate?
Ex-Gov. Andrew Cuomo won Wednesday night's Democratic mayoral primary debate — because his opponents' relentless attacks did more to elevate him than drag him down, a Post panel of veteran campaign strategists said. The thrice-elected Democrat took some gut punches, but there was no knockout blow or major blunder on his part, the political analysts on both sides of the aisle said. 'I tuned in to see a mayoral debate, not a debate about Andrew Cuomo,' quipped campaign strategist Ken Frydman of the nine-person debate moderated by NBC 4 NY and Politico. 'By making Andrew the debate, they elevated him,' said Frydman. Because Cuomo was constantly under fire, he got more airtime to respond to each jab and by default dominated the more than two-hour debate, the political experts said. 'Everyone tried to land a punch on Andrew Cuomo, but failed,' said campaign strategist O' Brien 'OB' Murray. 'The first 20 minutes gave Cuomo the center stage, literally and figuratively,' he said, referring to the ex-gov's position in the middle of the group of candidates standing on the dais at 30 Rockefeller Center. 'He handled the attacks and was able to deflect. They actually gave him more airtime than they should have,' Murray said. Republican campaign strategist Bill O'Reilly said the verbal pummeling Cuomo received from most of his eight primary rivals does not alter his status as the front-runner for the Democratic nomination. 'It was Andrew Cuomo vs. the Lilliputians, and the Lilliputians fell short. That's the bottom line,' O'Reilly said. 'Someone needed to trip up the former governor to slow his momentum, but it was clear from the jump that wouldn't happen. Cuomo hasn't lost a step since leaving Albany, and the field lacked the skill to crack him.' Cuomo also counter-attacked, taking shots at his biggest threats in the polls — 33-year-old Democratic socialist Zohran Mamdani, a state Assembly member from Queens, and City Comptroller Brad Lander. The former governor delivered the best line when he said, '[President] Trump would go through Mamdani like a hot knife through butter,' O'Reilly noted. Frydman said the candidates and moderators did force Cuomo to squirm to defend his record as governor, including his controversial nursing home policy during the COVID-19 pandemic and his approval of the unpopular 2019 bail reforms. They also tried to make him answer for the spate of sexual misconduct accusations leveled against him — which he denied, but which forced his resignation in 2021. Some of the other candidates had 'breakout moments' — including former Bronx Assemblyman Michael Blake, City Council Speaker Adrienne Adams and Mamdani, said political adviser Yvette Buckner. 'That will have voters wanting to learn more about them, their policies and their candidacy,' she said. Frydman too said Adams' performance 'moved the needle' for her campaign, which has been slow to gain momentum despite support from state Attorney General Letitia James. 'She introduced herself to Democratic voters well enough on substance to move up in ranked-choice voting,' he said. But Cuomo's comfortable lead over second-place Mamdani in recent polls should hold, Frydman said. O'Reilly agreed, but said Mamdani remains Cuomo's 'greatest threat' for the nomination in the June 24 primary. Two of the panelists agreed that Lander is competent, but his persona didn't translate on TV. 'He oozes insincerity in a car-salesman-type way,' O'Reilly said. But he said Brooklyn state Sen. Zellnor Myrie's sincerity came across 'easily,' calling him a rising star in the Democratic Party. Murray concurred, saying Lander has a 'stage presence for radio and a delivery for print. He confirmed why he has his wife and daughter on videos, instead of himself.' Another candidate, former city Comptroller Scott Stringer, who previously ran for mayor in 2021, didn't break through, the panelists said. 'Stringer was Stringer — flat, and after a second run for mayor, still didn't connect to voters,' Murray said. All but two of the Democratic contenders will debate again on June 12, save for Blake and state Sen. Jessica Ramos, who failed to meet the campaign funding threshold. Nine days of early voting will precede the primary, beginning on June 14.