Just heard that the army barracks in Bama was attacked and that a lot of casualties were taken. Can anyone substantiate?

Them lick plate sha.

They could also suggest regionalising the Nigerian police na

Funniest flying joke I've heard. For real. It's a bit dark though considering.

James Dasaolu is the second-fastest Briton in history after clocking 9.91 seconds in the 100m heats at the British Championships. But guess where his parents are from? This story has been in the news for about 3 days and no mention of his Nigerian heritage.

Mohammed Asif had wept with fear in a police cell after being arrested when a passenger said the taxi driver had attacked her

Relieved: Taxi driver Mohammed Asif
Newsteam

A relieved cabbie told yesterday how a smartphone app proved sex claims made against him were lies.

Mohammed Asif, 34, had wept with fear in a police cell after being arrested when passenger Astria Berwick, 27, said the taxi driver had attacked her.

But the truth emerged when Mohammed remembered he had made a sound recording of the journey using an app on his Samsung Galaxy phone.

Traumatised Mohammed said yesterday the allegations had ruined his life, and added: "I have completely changed due to her lies.

"The ordeal has frightened me. I no longer speak to my passengers. I'm scared to go out.

"I keep thinking, "I just dropped her off. She was just a normal passenger. Why has she done this?""

Berwick cut herself to try to convince police that divorced dad-of-two Mohammed had subjected her to a terrifying sex assault on the way to her home.

She claimed he pounced as she was being sick by the road, slashed her face with a knife and groped her.

Bemused Mohammed was arrested on suspicion of sexual assault and grilled by detectives for 12 hours.

He said: "I was crying in the cell. I was in there for a day. I told them there was a recording on my phone. I was saying "please check it"."

He recorded the journey with the app because his taxi's CCTV was broken.

Mohammed said he considers himself "very lucky" he had the evidence to hand.

Berwick has been jailed for 16 months after she admitted perverting the course of justice. Judge Michael Stokes QC blasted Berwick for her sick lies.

He told Nottingham crown court: "This was outrageous behaviour by the defendant against a wholly innocent man who was saved by the recording on his phone.

"Had he not recorded the conversation which demonstrated that nothing untoward occurred, he would probably still be in custody awaiting trial."

Mohammed said Berwick was drunk when he picked her up in his cab at 4.50pm on February 20.

He said the 11-mile journey from Nottingham city centre to her home in Bingham went smoothly, apart from having to pull over so she could be sick in a layby.

Berwick told police the attack began when she bent over to vomit.

Mohammed, of Carlton, in Nottingham, said he has battled depression since the arrest and lost a stone in weight.

He added: "Sixteen months is not a long time for someone who has ruined my life."

Nottingham police said: "False allegations have a huge impact on those falsely accused and their family.

"We investigate every crime thoroughly to discover the truth."

A 55-year-old woman from the Netherlands began experiencing sudden orgasms originating from, of all things, her left foot. The orgasms would happen around 5-6 times a day out of the blue from pressure and/or any normal stimulation of that foot. So what's the problem? (Huff Post Weird News)
Well, the woman says it was very embarrassing. She sought help from Dr. Marcel D. Waldinger who studied her problem. Dr. Waldinger, who is a neuropsychiatrist and professor in sexual psychopharmacology at Utrecht University in the Netherlands, found that there were some significant differences in the nerves between her left and right foot. When he stimulated her left foot with electrical impulse, she immediately had an orgasm. (If only it were so easy for all woman)

The doctor traced her problem back to a year and half before the spontaneous foot orgasms began. The woman had suffered a sepsis infection for three weeks that left her in a coma for part of that time. When she came out of that coma, she had burning and tingling in her left leg, probably as a result of nerve damage. When the nerve began to repair itself, something got mixed up - wires got crossed - and the nerves from the foot registered in her brain as the same nerves from her vagina, thusly leading to spontaneous orgasm whenever her foot was stimulated.

She was treated with an anesthetic nerve block injection to the nerve from her foot and she has been footie-orgasm free since. If the symptoms return, she will need to have another nerve block injection.

She is the only recorded female case for what they are calling "Foot Orgasm Syndrome". The only other case was recorded from a man with a foot amputation. Talk about your phantom sensations!

Some women, and men, too, say their feet are an erogenous zone leading to heightened sexual desire. That's pretty good news for foot fetishists, but to experience spontaneous orgasms from simply walking around could be a problem. Imagine walking into your bosses offices and then having to excuse yourself suddenly. How about waiting in line at the Department of Motor Vehicles? Well, that might be a far more pleasant way to pass that time. Still, no one wants strangers to see their "sex face". It's not pretty.

If you have experienced difficulties relating to spontaneous orgasm outside of the realm of actual sexual relations, do not be embarrassed or ashamed to seek help from a qualified physician.

BEIJING – A baby boy believed to be just days old was found in a sewer pipe in a bathroom in China last weekend.

According to local media, the startling discovery was made on Saturday in Jinhua City, Zhejiang province.

Firefighters were called to an apartment complex where residents said they could hear the baby’s cries through the pipes.

Emergency crews who arrived on the scene could see the baby’s head far down inside the toilet duct, but were unable to reach down far enough into the 4-inch in diameter pipe to pull him out.

Rescuers had to walk down one floor below to cut the pipe free.

After removing the section of pipe containing the baby, firefighters took him to a nearby hospital where pliers and a saw were used to gently free him.

The child, whose name is unknown, was believed to be just two days old when he was discovered and initially suffered from a low heart rate and labored breathing. He had also suffered numerous bruises to his head, arms and legs.

Doctors at Pujiang People’s Hospital said by telephone that the baby’s prognosis was good. His heart rate was stabilizing and his breathing was much smoother, they added.

Staff also reported that the hospital was paying the boy’s medical bills while donations of clothes, baby formula and other gifts were coming in from the community.

Doctors declined to confirm whether the baby’s relatives have come forward.

Police in Jinhua City said that they “seemed” to have found the baby’s parents before refusing to speak further. Police there have also said that they were treating the investigation as an attempted murder.

On Chinese social media, users expressed their outrage over the incident and called for the parents to be punished.

“More and more young parents treat their own flesh and blood so viciously,” wrote one user on China’s Twitter-like service, Weibo. “Treating a life like this is no different than murder.”

Others though expressed a desire to adopt the young boy.

“I am 25 years old and single! Can I adopt him?” asked one user.

Buhari's birds are coming back home to roost.

Pls can any one confirm this story? Just heard that the NE axis is boiling. Any updates would be appreciated.

God bless all the courageous people contributing to this thread

Yes. You can. Now try to sleep tonight. Apparently, the koala population is threatened by a terrible and widespread outbreak of chlamydia. And it can be spread to humans. No. Not that way.

Between 2001 and 2008, koala populations dropped 45 percent in urban areas, and 15 percent in nature. Researchers were puzzled as to what causes the sudden drop in numbers. The population has been, like all animal populations, threatened by development, but why were city koalas dying off if they were already on developed land. After some time spent on research, they got the first hint of what the problem was. It seemed that fifty percent of wild koalas were showing signs of chlamydia. There were undoubtedly more koalas who were infected but didn't show signs. Since there were no ways of treating the population and of course no safe sex, the bacteria spread from animal to animal during fighting, mating, and birth.

There are two strains, Chlamydia pecorum and Chlamydia pneumoniae. Complicating the issue, around Queensland, is the fact that the koalas there are almost all infected with a retrovirus that takes out their immune system. Fortunately, there is a vaccine available that seems to work on female koalas.

Unfortunately, C. pneumoniae can be transmitted to humans. Koala's incredible cuteness works on the disease's behalf. People enjoy picking them up, but like many tree-dwelling animals, koalas don't much care where they urinate. If an infected koala urinates on a person, they can possibly transmit the strain of chlamydia to the human. This is something you never want to explain to a doctor. Certainly not when you have to include the phrase, "I was just trying to cuddle it." So remember, when you see a koala - don't pick it up.

I dey feel this Aloevera chic. I was once in your boyfriend's shoes. In my case, I was blissfully unaware until she confessed to me cause the guilt was killing her. I told her that even if my mum had told me of her unfaithfulness, I would not have believed. I would have only believed if it came from her. It did and I was devastated. As painful as it was, all I wanted from her was an explanation as to why she did it. I wanted to know whether it was the sex or the money or whatHer answer even drove the dagger deeper, she said that she had fallen in love with the ma tried man. It took me all the power of my manhood to let it slide. After all this time I still feel some of the pain.

Aloevera. What ever you do, don't tell that man(your bf). Even if you want to call it quits, just give another excuse. There are very few men with hearts big enuf to forgive this sort of crime.

Very dull woman.

Very nice post. I particularly like the last one. I thought I was the only one who knew that one.

Bob Marley ranks among both the most popular and the most misunderstood figures in modern culture ... That the machine has utterly emasculated Marley is beyond doubt. Gone from the public record is the ghetto kid who dreamed of Che Guevara and the Black Panthers, and pinned their posters up in the Wailers Soul Shack record store; who believed in freedom; and the fighting which it necessitated, and dressed the part on an early album sleeve; whose heroes were James Brown and Muhammad Ali; whose God was Ras Tafari and whose sacrament was marijuana. Instead, the Bob Marley who surveys his kingdom today is smiling benevolence, a shining sun, a waving palm tree, and a string of hits which tumble out of polite radio like candy from a gumball machine. Of course it has assured his immortality. But it has also demeaned him beyond recognition. Bob Marley was worth far more.
- Dave Thompson


Bob Marley was the Third World's first pop superstar. He was the man who introduced the world to the mystic power of reggae. He was a true rocker at heart, and as a songwriter, he brought the lyrical force of Bob Dylan, the personal charisma of John Lennon, and the essential vocal stylings of Smokey Robinson into one voice.
- Jann Wenner

I grew up in Kaduna. Kay Dee..... Kada city. We actually lived along the banks of the River Kaduna, the area known as Ungwar Rimi low cost. Sometimes when the river tides got high and we were lucky, we'd spot the crocodiles. It was a wonderful time. In those day Kay Dee was known for its cosmopolitan vibe. All the different geopolitical zones were ably represented on my street and we didn't notice. We just lived together and that was it. A man was respected based on how well he handled his responsibilities. It was never about where he worshiped or the where he came from. In those days our parents' cars were usually registered in their states of origin; that's usually the only thing that told us a family's origin. Anyway enough about the Kay dee of old. This is supposed to be about Nesta Robert Marley.

I just had to go on a bit about Kay dee cos that's where I fell in love with reggae. For us in those days, reggae meant Bob Marley. We grew up listening to Bob Marley and we really listened. We listened to him speak of freedom, love and respect. We looked up to Bob. He was wise, kind and good. But most of all, he was cool. I remember when as a 7 year old I received my first green, yellow and red armband. I still consider it the coolest gift my elder brother has ever given me even though he recently paid for my wedding reception. I tried growing dreads at some point till my mum threatened to destroy my Marley tapes. The message was clear: get your priorities straight. I got it: listening to bob marley is more important than looking like him. But at some point, I needed to feel the way he must have felt when he was on stage. It was along the banks of river Kay dee that I had my first spliff. I shared it with my big brother who told me: don't fall in love with this shit. Those days it was only the big boys who smoked. But my big bro was respected and he respected me. So when he told the boys that I was ok, they allowed me to smoke. Since then, I have always attached smoking to respect. Marley also had a strong influence on my love life. Back in the day, it was the hard men who had girlfriends. To have a steady chic, man you had to have game. That usually meant that you needed the right flow. Girls were never a problem for me in those days. The girls didn't really stand a chance against my library of marley lyrics.. I wanna love you and treat you right..... It's this love I feel.... Listening to marley really gave me game.

I spent 11 May 2013 in the UK. My big brother called me on the 9th and asked how I was gonna spend marley day. I was so busy that I had actually forgotten marley day. Being in the UK I figured that London was gonna rock. After all that's where Bob Marley recorded some of his hardest hits. So I looked up on the Internet for any bob Marley events in London. I searched and searched to no avail. Finally I just had to settle for some reggae beat down that was advertised to take place at Brixton. I had been in the country for about 3 weeks so I was excited to go someplace where I'd be able to smoke and meditate while listening to good music on Marley day. Brixton is a multiethnic community in south London. Around 25 percent of its population is of African and Caribbean descent so there is supposed to be a heavy reggae following. I arrived too early for the show so I asked the bouncers to recommend a good pub where I could chill before the show. They gave me some directions. I figured I would smoke some weed before the show so I decided to get some before I went to the pub.

If you know what to look for, you can always spot a drug dealer in any crowd. Soon enough I located one. He told me that the least he had was for 10 quid so that's what I got. I then located a park and proceeded to roll a joint. As I opened the stuff, I discovered that it was just thyme! That m.......f...er!!!!. Shit! I was mad. I tried looking for the man but he was gone. I couldn't believe that a wake up naija boy like me had just been ripped off by a fifty something year old jamo. So I decided to look for another dealer. I was more careful this time so by the time I went to the beat down I was high as a kite. I got a drink an settled down to listen to the DJs. The music was good but it was not the exact sound that i was looking for. The only songs i recognised were a song each by Sly Dunbar, Robbie Shakespeare and Don Carlos. All the other jams were more of jungle dance or garage music. I looked around and it was all white people dancing. You could not see any rhythm in their dance, there was no flavor. Luckily for me I was high so I could still appreciate the fun of the whole thing. I continued ordering my drinks and watching.

As the evening progressed, some old skool musicians came on stage to perform. These were old men, old black men, old reggae men. They did a good job. As I watched them I estimated that they would be in their sixties. I realized that they would probably be contemporaries of Bob Marley if he were still alive. So when they got off the stage, I followed them as they proceeded to the smoking area and sure enough they had already rolled their jumbos. I politely asked to join them and permission was granted. The thing about jamba is that it has a serous bonding effect on people. In less than 15 minutes, we all knew each others names, marital status, professions and so many other things like that. One of them was actually a professor of linguistics. They were just amateur jammers. I told them I thought they were awesome and asked why they were not playing any Marley jams especially as today was Marley day. That question surprised them on 2 different levels. First, they didn't even acknowledge the date. Second, they were surprised that I, a black man from Africa was interested in Bob Marley reggae. I then got to find out that reggae was at it peak when Bob Marley was at his peak. After his death, the genre has been in steady decline. The eighties were the last golden years for reggae. The loud success of rap music has muffled the retreat of reggae to the background. Reggae has metamorphosed and its fans have also changed. It's now jungle, ska and garage dance hall music that is favored by predominantly white crowds.

As if to drive their point home, when we got back into the show, it was a white boy on stage bursting rhymes to the jungle beat. But damn! this boy was good. As I listened, I began to appreciate this new beat. But I still couldn't figure out why there were so few young black people in reggae. I looked around and located quite a number of blacks. None of them was dancing, they just hung back in the background; watching and nodding in time to the music. The rhythm of their nodding as if in acquiescence of their betrayal of such a great sound. I then realized that I was also nodding.

Even in Brixton, home to the biggest jamaican population in the UK, on the 11th of May, a guy can't listen to Bob Marley.

There was a phase of my life when I was in like class 4 when seeing a girl's panties was tha bomb! It got soo bad in my school that girls would do a boy a favor by lettin him see her pantie. With hindsight, this could be called solicitation. Anyway, it also got up to a point where a guy displayed hardness by seeing a girls pant even without her knowledge or permission. Again, with hindsight I see sexual assault. Hmmnh. So being the sharp guy was and not wanting to fall off my pedestal of being "the boy with the greatest number of panties seen", I had to think outside the box. Dama my head no big for nothing. I don't know whether anyone remembers those pencil sharpeners that used to have a mirror on one side. I realized that if I placed the mirror properly on my "sting ray" high tops, and I placed my foot at a proper angle angle below an unsuspecting girl wearing a skirt, I would be offered a sneak view of that Valhalla! Lololololllll!!! It's so funny but sometimes the colour was all you needed to be able boast to your friends. Hindsight: bragging. Among all the aforementioned requirements for the safe employment of this my new method (it was actually how I got my nickname of over 20years), the most important is to keep the girl unsuspicious of your ulterior motives. You must be able to hide your intentions while keeping that usually very prim and proper type of girl. The less descent ones would already have shown it to you as a favor. Hindsight: promiscuity. Any way if you remember this type of chick in primary school then you'd understand me. She is usually the class monitor, the type who makes sure her socks don't get dirty in school, intact she's the type of daughter I pray for. But that is now, that was then and my daddy genes were still in recession or is it remission. Well I pioneered a novel technique of improving my bragging rights and I was just trying to say it was extremely difficult to distract those chicks man. A boy had to have the right story to do the move. A lot of boys got caught man, some got slapped. in the midst of it all, i continued to hold my championship record.It got so bad that one of those wimps who were trying to prove themselves got caught. Then the even wimpier chic reported to the most wimpy teacher, who didn't do anything. Hindsight: Most of the causes of our problem as a nation is caused by negligence.So the girl reported to her mum. Hindsight: Good parenting when your little girl tells you such things. So the mother reported it during the next PTA. It was really hot topic because teacher was admonished and the whole school boy was suspended. Very funny because that boy was always trying to beat me at things, trying to be the bad boy. He used to live on the next street from me. He ended up getting everything he wanted because he was labelled bad boy and repeated that class while I was made the head boy the next year. Believe me, when I became head boy, all that "lookie, lookie" game came to an end. From my unique position I could always catch a hunter. I caught so many of them and punished them so well that they feared me more than being caught by the Girls. Damn...

Marley Day in Brixton.


Bob Marley ranks among both the most popular and the most misunderstood figures in modern culture ... That the machine has utterly emasculated Marley is beyond doubt. Gone from the public record is the ghetto kid who dreamed of Che Guevara and the Black Panthers, and pinned their posters up in the Wailers Soul Shack record store; who believed in freedom; and the fighting which it necessitated, and dressed the part on an early album sleeve; whose heroes were James Brown and Muhammad Ali; whose God was Ras Tafari and whose sacrament was marijuana. Instead, the Bob Marley who surveys his kingdom today is smiling benevolence, a shining sun, a waving palm tree, and a string of hits which tumble out of polite radio like candy from a gumball machine. Of course it has assured his immortality. But it has also demeaned him beyond recognition. Bob Marley was worth far more.
- Dave Thompson


Bob Marley was the Third World's first pop superstar. He was the man who introduced the world to the mystic power of reggae. He was a true rocker at heart, and as a songwriter, he brought the lyrical force of Bob Dylan, the personal charisma of John Lennon, and the essential vocal stylings of Smokey Robinson into one voice.
- Jann Wenner

I grew up in Kaduna. Kay Dee..... Kada city. We actually lived along the banks of the River Kaduna, the area known as Ungwar Rimi low cost. Sometimes when the river tides got high and we were lucky, we'd spot the crocodiles. It was a wonderful time. In those day Kay Dee was known for its cosmopolitan vibe. All the different geopolitical zones were ably represented on my street and we didn't notice. We just lived together and that was it. A man was respected based on how well he handled his responsibilities. It was never about where he worshiped or the where he came from. In those days our parents' cars were usually registered in their states of origin; that's usually the only thing that told us a family's origin. Anyway enough about the Kay dee of old. This is supposed to be about Nesta Robert Marley.

I just had to go on a bit about Kay dee cos that's where I fell in love with reggae. For us in those days, reggae meant Bob Marley. We grew up listening to Bob Marley and we really listened. We listened to him speak of freedom, love and respect. We looked up to Bob. He was wise, kind and good. But most of all, he was cool. I remember when as a 7 year old I received my first green, yellow and red armband. I still consider it the coolest gift my elder brother has ever given me even though he recently paid for my wedding reception. I tried growing dreads at some point till my mum threatened to destroy my Marley tapes. The message was clear: get your priorities straight. I got it: listening to bob marley is more important than looking like him. But at some point, I needed to feel the way he must have felt when he was on stage. It was along the banks of river Kay dee that I had my first spliff. I shared it with my big brother who told me: don't fall in love with this shit. Those days it was only the big boys who smoked. But my big bro was respected and he respected me. So when he told the boys that I was ok, they allowed me to smoke. Since then, I have always attached smoking to respect. Marley also had a strong influence on my love life. Back in the day, it was the hard men who had girlfriends. To have a steady chic, man you had to have game. That usually meant that you needed the right flow. Girls were never a problem for me in those days. The girls didn't really stand a chance against my library of marley lyrics.. I wanna love you and treat you right..... It's this love I feel.... Listening to marley really gave me game.

I spent 11 May 2013 in the UK. My big brother called me on the 9th and asked how I was gonna spend marley day. I was so busy that I had actually forgotten marley day. Being in the UK I figured that London was gonna rock. After all that's where Bob Marley recorded some of his hardest hits. So I looked up on the Internet for any bob Marley events in London. I searched and searched to no avail. Finally I just had to settle for some reggae beat down that was advertised to take place at Brixton. I had been in the country for about 3 weeks so I was excited to go someplace where I'd be able to smoke and meditate while listening to good music on Marley day. Brixton is a multiethnic community in south London. Around 25 percent of its population is of African and Caribbean descent so there is supposed to be a heavy reggae following. I arrived too early for the show so I asked the bouncers to recommend a good pub where I could chill before the show. They gave me some directions. I figured I would smoke some weed before the show so I decided to get some before I went to the pub.

If you know what to look for, you can always spot a drug dealer in any crowd. Soon enough I located one. He told me that the least he had was for 10 quid so that's what I got. I then located a park and proceeded to roll a joint. As I opened the stuff, I discovered that it was just thyme! That m.......f...er!!!!. Shit! I was mad. I tried looking for the man but he was gone. I couldn't believe that a wake up naija boy like me had just been ripped off by a fifty something year old jamo. So I decided to look for another dealer. I was more careful this time so by the time I went to the beat down I was high as a kite. I got a drink an settled down to listen to the DJs. The music was good but it was not the exact sound that i was looking for. The only songs i recognised were a song each by Sly Dunbar, Robbie Shakespeare and Don Carlos. All the other jams were more of jungle dance or garage music. I looked around and it was all white people dancing. You could not see any rhythm in their dance, there was no flavor. Luckily for me I was high so I could still appreciate the fun of the whole thing. I continued ordering my drinks and watching.

As the evening progressed, some old skool musicians came on stage to perform. These were old men, old black men, old reggae men. They did a good job. As I watched them I estimated that they would be in their sixties. I realized that they would probably be contemporaries of Bob Marley if he were still alive. So when they got off the stage, I followed them as they proceeded to the smoking area and sure enough they had already rolled their jumbos. I politely asked to join them and permission was granted. The thing about jamba is that it has a serous bonding effect on people. In less than 15 minutes, we all knew each others names, marital status, professions and so many other things like that. One of them was actually a professor of linguistics. They were just amateur jammers. I told them I thought they were awesome and asked why they were not playing any Marley jams especially as today was Marley day. That question surprised them on 2 different levels. First, they didn't even acknowledge the date. Second, they were surprised that I, a black man from Africa was interested in Bob Marley reggae. I then got to find out that reggae was at it peak when Bob Marley was at his peak. After his death, the genre has been in steady decline. The eighties were the last golden years for reggae. The loud success of rap music has muffled the retreat of reggae to the background. Reggae has metamorphosed and its fans have also changed. It's now jungle, ska and garage dance hall music that is favored by predominantly white crowds.

As if to drive their point home, when we got back into the show, it was a white boy on stage bursting rhymes to the jungle beat. But damn! this boy was good. As I listened, I began to appreciate this new beat. But I still couldn't figure out why there were so few young black people in reggae. I looked around and located quite a number of blacks. None of them was dancing, they just hung back in the background; watching and nodding in time to the music. The rhythm of their nodding as if in acquiescence of their betrayal of such a great sound. I then realized that I was also nodding.

Even in Brixton, home to the biggest jamaican population in the UK, on the 11th of May, a guy can't listen to Bob Marley.

Segeggs: The holy spirit is at work.

amen brother. This is just the argument I need to face my wifey.

With you in prayers. May the God Almighty who wiped the tears of Sarah and Hannah do the same for as many as call on him.IJN. Amen

[quote author=Eze Promoe]Just got a call this morning that two of my relatives were injured by the blast but who do I vent my anger on? Shoemakers? Nail cutters? Toy wristwatch sellers?
I just have to leave it for God. 100 aboki blood isn't worth the precious life of one of my cousin. THANK GOD THEY'RE STILL ALIVE!
ABOKI, come and shine my shoe, nothing dey happen![/quote


Word!
1 shoe shiner or barrow pusher or almajiri killing himself along with bread winners; doctors, lawyers, teachers, etc.
The situation is pathetic. Vengeance belongs to God.

Tee_Jay: she is daring you, Pls dont disappoint The best way to make her listen is to "Just Do It",

Hehehehe!!!! as per nike

malele: when dey leave north and enter other states,we shall know whether dey are warriors or not.

It's almost as if you relish the challenge. I can assure you that there's nothing to relish about your friends, neighbors and colleagues dying

Tot I heard it mentioned that Clinton's cancelled visit had nothing to do with this pardon