By admin 
HangupsMusic.com – Richmound, Saskatchewan, Canada’s tranquil prairies bore witness to an extraordinary saga culminating in 2025, when authorities finally breached a decommissioned school in rural Saskatchewan. The air inside was thick with a stench so overpowering that one officer reportedly recoiled, gagging, while sunlight struggled to penetrate windows and doors obscured by tarpaulins. For two years prior, approximately 20 adherents of a sect known as the "Kingdom of Canada" had occupied the building, proclaiming dominion over the nation. Operating under a self-devised legal system, they had issued their own decrees and menacingly threatened the nearby village with "publicly broadcast executions." Their living conditions were stark: classrooms served as sleeping quarters, and in the absence of running water, five-gallon buckets functioned as makeshift toilets.
The group’s leader, a woman known to her followers as the "Queen of Canada," had established her private chambers within a primary classroom, where personal effects like a purse and water jugs bearing her name remained. A remarkable discovery was a hidden passage, a hole meticulously cut through a concrete wall and camouflaged by a cabinet, leading to the Queen’s exclusive bathroom, complete with an elaborate shower. On the school’s roof, investigators found more tarps concealing caches of firewood and fuel containers. Fire Chief Gene Perreault, present during the walkthrough, recalled his bewilderment. "The placement of these fire caches makes no sense," he remarked, pondering if they represented a "last stand" in the event of government intervention, echoing fears of a "Waco-style" immolation.
The self-appointed monarch was Romana Didulo, born in the Philippines in 1974. Didulo later asserted her lineage was the "modern equivalent of [the] Royal Family," a claim lacking any independent verification, much like many facets of her early life. After her parents’ passing in her teenage years, she relocated to British Columbia to reside with relatives. The period between 1999 and 2005 remains largely obscure, but her digital presence from 2005 onwards portrays an individual oscillating between extreme introversion, grandiose self-perception, and austere tendencies. Her 2006 Blogger profile cited The Secret, a film on manifestation, and Donald Trump’s The Art of the Deal among her preferred works. (Attempts to reach Didulo or her "press secretary," Darlene Ondi, for comment were unsuccessful.)
A recurring theme in Didulo’s public statements was her deep concern for housing insecurity. In a 2024 livestream, "Queen Romana Tell Real Vision," she spoke emotionally about the "mental anguish of someone who doesn’t know where his or her head is going to be laid in the evening." This sentiment underpinned her vision to replace food banks with free grocery stores. As the self-proclaimed Queen, housing became a cornerstone of her platform, with proposals for $1.5 trillion in spending.
In 2020, at the age of 46, Didulo announced she had assumed the role of prime minister, establishing the "Canada1st Party of Canada." This party, however, showed no signs of official registration and appeared to have Didulo as its sole member. Videos she posted on YouTube disseminated alt-right and anti-globalist viewpoints, asserting Canada’s withdrawal from the United Nations and the World Health Organization. She claimed a divine mission to Earth, sent by "highest divine beings" to bring "peace and prosperity," while disavowing any dictatorial ambitions.
A central tenet of Didulo’s early messaging revolved around Covid-19. In her 2020 videos, a small figure with a round face, short, greying hair, and an unblinking gaze, she delivered monologues in a monotone voice before a crumpled Canadian flag. She labeled the pandemic a "plandemic," orchestrated by "the global economic reset team and their agents" to control global resources and citizens. After articulating her belief that mask mandates constituted tyranny, she dramatically produced and ignited a surgical mask on camera.
As QAnon conspiracy theories gained global traction and pandemic policies intensified public dissent, Didulo emerged as an unexpected figurehead for some Canadians. Her increasingly outlandish and conspiratorial narratives resonated with a growing online audience, eventually transitioning into real-world action.
By February 2021, Didulo had migrated to Telegram, a platform favored by users who felt censored by mainstream social media. There, she propagated well-known QAnon narratives, including the baseless claim that "elites" extracted adrenochrome from children for anti-aging purposes. She even asserted she had personally halted adrenochrome production in secret underground tunnels.
Didulo maintained her claim as prime minister, attributing her rise to "white hats," the same clandestine forces she believed had propelled Donald Trump to the U.S. presidency. She declared the Canadian government a "bankrupt corporation," falsely stated that Queen Elizabeth II had died (the monarch passed in 2022), and proclaimed herself the Queen’s successor. Under the banner of the "Kingdom of Canada," she introduced "natural law" to replace existing civil and criminal codes. By late 2021, her Telegram subscriber count surpassed 70,000.
Through a series of numbered "Decrees," Didulo codified the Kingdom’s laws. Decree No. 1 prohibited the teaching of critical race theory in all educational institutions. Decree No. 4 raised the marriage age of consent to 24, imposing a 30-year prison sentence "without bail or parole" for violations. Eventually, she declared all debt nullified, instructing followers to cease mortgage and credit card payments. Any attempt by officials or lenders to enforce laws or collect debts would be met with a "military tribunal," a euphemism for execution.
Beyond legal revolution, Didulo embraced technological fantasies. Drawing from QAnon lore, she touted "medbeds" and "replicators"—fictional medical devices supposedly of alien origin, capable of curing all ailments, regenerating limbs, and granting immortality. She claimed privileged access to these medbeds via the Intergalactic Federation of Light Beings, asserting her own identity as an alien from Arcturus, incarnated to save humanity. To her followers, these science-fiction-esque pronouncements offered a desperate hope.
Canadian scholar Donald Netolitzky observed the appeal: "It’s weird to us outsiders, but the stranger her message, the more esoteric her appearance and manner, the more she… becomes a convincing, appealing person." He added, "If you believe the Hidden Hand controls everything mainstream, then what truth remains is in the outliers. And Didulo is certainly an outlier." Camden MacKenzie, a doctoral student at Queen’s University who studied Didulo, attributed her rise significantly to the "institutional void created by the pandemic." With churches closed and unable to take firm stances on vaccines without alienating members, individuals turned online, where figures like Didulo fused spirituality, conspiracy, and politics into a new form of authority, creating "a perfect storm."
Around the time Didulo joined Telegram, a disgruntled 54-year-old factory worker named Frank Curtin, skeptical of Covid-19 narratives, became exposed to her videos. Curtin quit his job, then served a "cease-and-desist" letter to his boss, mirroring similar notices that soon appeared on buildings across Canada. Signed in Didulo’s name, these ordered compliance with Covid restrictions to cease or face "military tribunal." Didulo’s digital rhetoric was now manifesting in the physical world.
In June 2021, Curtin delivered one of these letters to a Peterborough police station, declaring a "new commander-in-chief." While an officer sought a colleague, Curtin, filming, disparaged a portrait of Queen Elizabeth II and Prince Philip as "the devils themselves," believing the "black eyes" in the image confirmed their soullessness. When asked for identification, he replied, "If you need my name, you can get it through Romana. She’s the new commander and chief." Curtin returned in July, convinced the police chief had been arrested, and, upon learning the chief hadn’t been seen for weeks, took it as "confirmation." Weeks later, frustrated by the station’s continued operation, Curtin and about 20 followers attempted citizen’s arrests on officers for enforcing Covid restrictions. Six, including Curtin, were arrested for charges including assaulting a police officer. Didulo remained in a nearby RV.
Despite declaring herself Queen, Didulo’s personal life in early 2021 involved renting a room beside a car garage in Victoria and working at an English-language school. When police investigated reports of the cease-and-desist letters, they found a Canada1st Party flag and a "Smile you are on camera" sign at her residence. After surveillance, the investigation was closed, citing "mental health was a factor."
Yet, Didulo’s online presence and in-person collective continued to expand, as did the severity of her group’s threats. Her followers adopted uniforms: white baseball hats and custom windbreakers emblazoned with "QR" for Queen Romana. Each held a self-appointed title, like "His/Her Excellency," and specific roles such as security or media relations. A particularly radical faction, known as "duck hunters," reportedly prepared for violence. In fall 2021, Didulo commanded them via Telegram to "shoot to kill" healthcare workers administering Covid vaccines to children. This directive, slated for November 21, 2021, coincided with media reports of a "duck hunter" in Quebec arrested for threats against his daughter’s school.
The Royal Canadian Mounted Police’s Integrated National Security Enforcement Team, which had monitored Didulo for months, obtained a search warrant for her home and electronic devices, based on evidence she was "counseling" murder. On November 27, Didulo was apprehended under British Columbia’s Mental Health Act, which permits involuntary treatment for severe mental illness. She was released the same day, informing followers in a livestream that she was "not insane." No charges were filed.
On January 30, 2022, Didulo announced her participation in the "Freedom Convoy," a major anti-Covid demonstration in Ottawa. About a dozen devoted followers, including "Raven Moonstone," who became Didulo’s second-in-command, gathered at her apartment. Moonstone, frequently seen in Didulo’s videos with pigtail braids, described herself as a "truth seeker and light worker" and a "beginner investigative journalist."
Didulo’s announcement quickly raised over $16,000 in donations, eventually accumulating more than $100,000. Her most ardent followers rented a fleet of RVs, collected her, and embarked on a cross-country journey, establishing a "mobile government." Before their arrival in Ottawa, a mural of Didulo was painted on a large banner, and her team reportedly booked hotel rooms for Vladimir Putin and Tucker Carlson (Didulo had claimed a friendly relationship with the Russian president, without substantiation).
On February 3, Didulo made her public debut as the Queen of Canada, dressed in a white coat, purple gloves, and a black toque, walking through a procession of supporters. Before the Canadian parliament, she delivered a speech declaring all Covid restrictions lifted and her royal decrees legally binding. She then attempted to burn a Canadian flag, but was met with jeers from the crowd.
Subsequently, Ontario police closely tracked the Freedom Convoy, creating profiles on 87 key participants. Their 14-page report on Didulo identified her as a "Canadian conspiracy theorist with an affiliation with QAnon" and her followers as the "true threat," noting the "duck hunters’" access to firearms and demonstrated willingness to act on her orders. In just over a year, the "Kingdom" had evolved from a digital collective of QAnon believers, sovereign citizens, and pandemic skeptics into a real-world group seemingly prepared for violence. Experts considered them one of North America’s most dangerous extremist organizations. Inspector Ashley St. Germaine, a senior investigative officer with the RCMP in Regina, Saskatchewan, told this reporter that the Peterborough police siege marked the point where Didulo’s rhetoric transformed into "actual physical… action," representing a significant escalation where followers showed a "desire to follow through" on threats.
Throughout 2022, Didulo and her inner circle journeyed to Canada’s East Coast, holding meet-and-greets in parking lots and staying on supporters’ private properties. Followers prepared meals, planned speeches, and did laundry for Didulo. While she projected an image of a supreme, benevolent, yet tyrannical ruler, the individual Didulo was notably human, struggling with recording equipment, asserting dominance through yelling, and posting videos of herself searching RVs for hidden trackers. She enforced harsh living conditions, including limited shower access, and played a "Rasputin" remix praising her for up to ten hours daily.
By this time, Didulo’s fictional laws had tangible, destructive consequences: homes were foreclosed, vehicles repossessed, and some followers, including those from the Peterborough siege, faced criminal charges. Several members of her inner circle left, citing abusive conditions. Didulo responded by threatening to hang "treasonous followers" "head first aboard a military helicopter directly above a volcano or commercial crocodile farms (they are always hungry)," according to a Telegram post.
Maintaining their RV fleet cost approximately $20,000 monthly, leading the group to subsist on carrots and sardines. Didulo frequently used deceptive means to raise funds. According to VICE, she raised over $50,000 through a GoFundMe campaign ostensibly for BC wildfire victims before the platform shut her down. Other tactics included printing "loyalty money" and posting a fabricated endorsement from Trump adviser Roger Stone, who later clarified he filmed the video without knowing Didulo’s identity or intended use.
By spring 2023, life on the road grew increasingly difficult. Funds dwindled, more followers departed or formed splinter groups, and media scrutiny, including from VICE, intensified. Months later, the Kingdom headed west, arriving in Kamsack on September 13 and claiming the Saskatchewan town, and surrounding Indigenous land, as their own. Ken Thompson, a bylaw officer, recalled the Queen’s security detail "weren’t allowing people to walk around" the streets. Thompson alerted Special Constable Sherise Fountain, who investigated. "It was a delegate of hers," Fountain recounted, "trying to tell people that the Queen of Canada had now arrived and had taken over." By that afternoon, the RCMP, accompanied by local vehicles, escorted the Kingdom out of town.
That same day, 260 miles west, Richmound Mayor Brad Miller received a text message while fishing. For years, Miller had been embroiled in a dispute with resident Ricky Manz over the old Richmound School, abandoned since 2008. Manz, who had bought the property with plans for a "Can-Abis Botanicals" shop, struggled with tax payments. Miller, who once knew Manz as a skilled carpenter, observed Manz had "went down the rabbit hole so far that he couldn’t get out." In text exchanges with the mayor, Manz revealed a paranoid worldview, asserting media control by Wall Street and impending bank collapses. Recently, however, a new figure had offered him hope.
Manz lauded Didulo in a text: "She travels across Canada the last year and a half meeting people and making changes… Do some homework brother!!!!!!!! And spread the good news… they are the real deal." He then proposed a deal: exempt him from the education tax on the school property, or he would invite Didulo and her inner circle to live there. "The ball is in your court," he warned, "Call it a warning shot across the bow." (Manz could not be reached for comment, and his lawyer declined to speak without client approval.)
On September 14—the day before Manz’s ultimatum—Didulo and approximately 14 core followers arrived in Richmound, a prairie town of about 120 people. Didulo drove a motorhome with her airbrushed portrait and a "meet and greet" sign. Unlike Kamsack, Manz had invited them onto private property—the Richmound School—affording them legal protection. Didulo initially described the village as "very friendly" in a livestream, a sentiment that would not last.
Officials later discovered the school’s living quarters were gender-segregated, with men in the gym and women in the library. Both groups used the janitor’s closet for showering and ate in the former home economics room, which also served as the "HRM Queen Romana Didulo Command Center." One room housed a pool table. The gym featured a makeshift courtroom with a jury box, where the Kingdom held trials, issued sentences, and levied fines for "natural law" violations. The gym also served as a broadcast studio for QRTRV, Didulo’s daily livestream. On the roof, a garden and a Starlink dish maintained their connection to the wider world.
Among those frequenting the school were "His Excellency Frank Curtin," the architect of the Peterborough police siege; a man nicknamed "Cowboy"; and an individual villagers described as an unhinged, ex-military type, whom Mayor Miller dubbed "Vin Diesel." After nearly two years on the road, the school offered a higher standard of living for Didulo and her followers. Officials believed it also signified a desperate, final confrontation between Didulo and the government, a culmination of events from the cease-and-desist letters to the attempted takeover of Kamsack.
A wire boundary, private-property signs, lights, and security cameras were erected around the school, soon replaced by a substantial metal fence. A vehicle patrolled the perimeter day and night, recording anyone who approached, including children at a nearby playground. Miller confronted the baseball-hat-wearing "security" at the gate, asking about their purpose, but received no response. Shortly after, Miller, whose home was nearby, observed followers on the school roof with binoculars, watching his residence.
Almost every resident of Richmound perceived Didulo as an imminent danger. Miller, having spoken with those involved in the Kamsack takeover, was urged to expel the group. His wife, Arlene, after reviewing Didulo’s Telegram content, organized a protest for Saturday, September 16. Trucks and semi-trailers from across the southwest converged on Richmound, blaring horns, with one ramming the new fence.
In retaliation, on September 29, the Kingdom sent a cease-and-desist letter to the village administration, naming several officials, including the Millers. Citing conspiracy theories involving the Rothschilds and the Chinese Communist Party, the letter warned that failure to cease "demoralizing and immoral activities" could lead to "publicly broadcast executions upon yourselves, and undeserved devastation upon your children."
The threats plunged the village into fear. The administration office closed, and the school playground was cordoned off. On October 6, the RCMP deployed a temporary mobile detachment to Richmound to maintain peace, but by the time Arlene organized a second protest on October 14, the RCMP announced no "imminent threat" and withdrew resources. This decision drew widespread criticism from residents. Inspector Germaine stated police conducted a risk assessment and determined tensions had "very much de-escalated," and community leaders were consulted, concluding police presence was no longer needed. Richmound felt abandoned.
The Millers, married for 43 years, drew their blinds at night and slept with a .22 caliber rifle under their bed. On the mayor’s nightstand lay three rifle clips and two cards from his grandchildren. At 62, a retired oil-and-gas industry worker, Miller had taken office at the urging of the previous mayor to prevent "outsiders screwing up Richmound."
While occupying the school, the Kingdom purchased supplies from the town’s general store. Didulo, paranoid of poisoning via municipal utilities, bought large quantities of bottled water. The store owner even traveled to the next province for goods to sell to Kingdom members, and reportedly sold mattresses to them (the owner declined an interview).
The village’s legal counsel advised they lacked bylaws to remove the Kingdom, and new ones couldn’t be created because the group’s use of the school was "grandfathered" in. This protection would only expire if the property was unused for an extended period. The village pursued a municipal warrant for inspection, but a judge denied it, citing "insufficient" information. Miller appealed to all levels of government, including Saskatchewan Premier Scott Moe, who, while calling the situation "unfortunate," stated it was a municipal matter. Frustrated, Miller sought direct mediation with Didulo at the fence, then wrote her a letter, receiving no response. He even invited the "security" gatekeepers to his home for steak, unaware they were vegetarian.
Miller suspected a faction of nearly a dozen local residents, whom he dubbed "The Dividers," were sympathetic to the Kingdom and sought to have him and other council members fired. Among them was Melinda Fischer, who, after a dispute with the village over fence damage in 2022, began "posting [town council] minutes and revealing all the nastiness of the corrupt village," as she stated on a Didulo broadcast in 2024. Fischer accused the town of misusing public funds and falsifying meeting minutes, and in text messages seen by Rolling Stone, insulted the mayor and his wife (Fischer did not respond to detailed questions).
Fischer attempted to recruit others, including foreman Ben Kessler, by suggesting he was underpaid. When he refused, she turned against him. Kessler claimed that as he sprayed weeds near her house in 2024, she expressed satisfaction over his recently deceased son’s death, hoping it was "a horrible death." Kessler, shaken, and his wife sold their house and left Richmound. The village hired Dustin Cowan as the new foreman, who became friends with Fischer. Fischer convinced Cowan’s retired father-in-law, suffering from blood and bone marrow cancer, to "reserve" a spot on one of Didulo’s supposed medbeds by paying tens of thousands in crypto, believing it would cure his cancer and reverse his age. Cowan laughed when asked if his vulnerable father-in-law was wealthy, stating, "He’s a pensioner."
At town hall meetings, Richmound villagers described how their lives had been upended, carrying firearms openly and locking their doors at night. According to the Millers, at least four residents, including the Kesslers, left Richmound permanently.
In fall 2024, after a year of failed attempts to remove Didulo and her followers, the village had two remaining options: shut off the school’s water supply for $14,000, or plug the sewer for $2,500, which would also cut off water. The town council chose the latter, uncovering a forgotten manhole and using a rubber bladder to plug the sewer.
The following spring, after heavy rain, the Millers observed water bubbling from a different manhole and flowing down the highway. Arlene, a water-treatment-plant operator, suspected the Kingdom had illegally tampered with the shut-off valve to access municipal water, which had been off since the school’s decommissioning in 2008. If the valve had been tampered with, the municipal water supply could be contaminated.
Mayor Miller confronted Manz across the fence, who denied tampering with the valve. On July 18, Miller and two RCMP officers approached the school to inspect the curbstop. Manz appeared, asking, "What are you doing?" An officer instructed him to "Back up," to which Manz retorted, "Fuck off. You’re on my property." The officer then jumped the fence and shoved Manz, leading to a scuffle on the sewage-soaked ground. Miller assisted in subduing Manz, who was pepper-sprayed and arrested. Manz was charged with assaulting both officers and the mayor, and intimidating a justice-system participant. Didulo was also charged with the intimidation offense.
Around the same time, the RCMP received a tip about a gun inside the school. Nine days later, on September 3, a SWAT truck breached the school’s metal fence. Drones shattered windows, clearing the way for dozens of police cars and special-forces units. The Queen, inside a classroom with 15 followers, livestreamed the event, musing that police might be there to rescue her. Heavily armed officers soon entered and arrested the group.
The Millers, hearing sirens, ran outside. For hours afterward, Miller was shaking. "The happiest day of my life," he now reflects. Police seized 13 replica semiautomatic handguns, ammunition, and numerous electronic devices. Seventy-two-year-old Lise Beauchamp, 37-year-old Melany Rinker (also known as Melony Vanderbrink), and 63-year-old Nancy Jancke were charged with obstruction of a peace officer for failing to provide identification. As of summer 2026, these charges have been paused by the prosecution. Most of the other 15 arrested followers were released without charge.
After the raid, Fire Chief Gene Perreault led officials through the school. "Very little sunlight was allowed in," Perreault noted, describing the Kingdom’s self-imposed "prison" as "never seen anything like it." Twenty-one fire violations were found, including a 45-gallon barrel stove vented improperly through a window in a laundry area. A cistern below the stage contained dead rodents. Perreault believed that without police intervention, the group faced imminent risk of carbon-monoxide poisoning from unvented heating sources.
On September 5, Didulo addressed onlookers outside a courthouse, asserting her innocence and claiming the charges were "false." Didulo and Manz were ordered to avoid contact, a condition they violated, leading to an additional charge. At a bail hearing, Manz denied assault, claiming video evidence supported his victimization. He also faces charges for making threats.
At Didulo’s bail hearing three days later, she stated she would only consent to proceedings under "natural law." More recently, she claimed constant harassment and "daily threats" against her life in Richmound. In March 2026, the intimidation charges against Didulo and Manz were shelved due to insufficient evidence, though prosecutors have a year to refile. Other charges against Manz are proceeding.
Since the hearing, the Queen has maintained a low profile. In her absence, followers host daily three-hour livestreams, discussing global news events and often concluding that Didulo will return to save the world. Didulo rarely appears in these videos, and the group remains tight-lipped about her whereabouts.
Before her prime ministerial claims, Didulo had established shell companies like "Infinite Wealth" and "Didulo Holding Incorporated," with police noting a plan to start a company in the U.K. MacKenzie believes Didulo, being "power-motivated," would not abandon her followers. However, Netolitzky posits she "could flee," suggesting she may have accumulated funds and could "simply disappear."
Today, Manz and Fischer remain in the community. Kessler, the original foreman, states he would "no way" return, describing Richmound as associated with trauma, where Fischer’s comments represented "the pinnacle of the evil that happened there."
Following Didulo’s expulsion, the Millers petitioned the provincial parliament to update Saskatchewan’s Safer Communities and Neighborhoods Act, aiming to streamline the removal of groups like the Kingdom of Canada. Miller envisions it as a "binder filled with bylaws" for villages facing similar situations.
The Richmound School remains abandoned since the raid, described by one villager as a "cheap prison," a "bloody eyesore," and a "constant reminder." The Millers hope to see it burned down and replaced with a greenhouse. The school, the first sight upon entering and the last upon leaving Richmound, now stands as a stark, shrinking but ever-present reminder in the rearview mirror of a community forever altered.
