Mediating Financial Fraud: A Case of Marriage Betrayal

The old ways had always been clear: when conflict arose in a marriage, the family was the first to intervene, guiding the couple back to a place of understanding and reconciliation. But that was before the world began to creep in—before new values, foreign influences, and the idea of a global village began to rewrite the rules. This was before gender roles were questioned, before apologies could be offered by anyone—men, women, even elders—without shame. Julie and Reagan were about to experience just what this change meant. 

Julie sat at the edge of their sofa, her hands folded tightly in her lap, staring at the door as if she were waiting for something—or someone—to come through. Her husband whizzed past without even saying, “Hello, babe.” 

“Reagan!” she shouted, her voice echoing up to their bedroom. “Come. We need to talk.” 

Her heart pounded with anger at the shock of what she had just uncovered. She heard his deliberate footsteps—slow and measured. Finally, he appeared in the doorway, his expression calm, almost uninterested. 

“What’s the matter?” he asked, his tone casual. “Reagan,” she began, her voice trembling. “I just came back from meeting with Ben, the Area Manager of Big Ben Bank. Is there something you would like to tell me?” He crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame, his face unreadable. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said, meeting her gaze with unnerving composure. “Ann, the Customer Service Officer, told me you’ve been withdrawing money from my savings account during the four years I was studying in Italy, and now the funds are depleted,” she snapped. “Care to explain?” 

His expression didn’t falter, but she noticed a brief flicker in his eyes. 

“What money are you talking about?” he said evenly. The denial sent a fresh wave of anger through her. “Don’t play games with me. Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” She studied his face again, searching for any sign of remorse. “I put it to good use,” he finally admitted, his voice calm enough to make my skin crawl. “Wrong. You stole it,” she retorted. “While I was miles away, trying to build a future for us, you were emptying my account behind my back.” 

Reagan shrugged, the motion so casual it made Julie's blood boil. “It was my account too. Isn’t that the point of a marriage?” 

“A marriage? And who gave you permission to withdraw since the account was not a joint account and you were not a signatory?” His silence was deafening. In that moment, a chilling realization hit Julie: She didn’t know this man at all. 

Three days passed, and the bank had not called Julie back. She went straight to Ben’s office, desperate for answers. Ben met her with a solemn expression. “There’s nothing more we can do, Julie. The money was withdrawn by your husband. If you sue—well, you know the Italian law—Reagan will be arrested for theft.” The words slapped her in the face like a punch. “But I left that money in your custody for safekeeping, not in Reagan’s possession,” she countered, fighting back. Ben’s demeanor shifted. His tone softened as he pleaded, “Please, Julie, also help Ann keep her job. She has a family, and she’s terrified of losing her job. Furthermore, you have to salvage your marriage.” “What about me, Ben? I have a family too, you know? Ann has destroyed my future. Can’t you see that?” Ben’s eyes sparkled as he responded, "she will write a letter of apology. I’ll make sure of that.” 

She couldn’t hold it in anymore— she lost control. “You’re more concerned about Ann’s job than the fact that she’s ruined my life. You have no empathy for me, Ben.” She could have spat in his face at that point, but instead, she said, “I’ll handle this my way, and I’ll do whatever it takes to get my money back.” Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked out, leaving the office—and the mess they had created—behind her. 

The next morning, Julie woke up early with a singular purpose to sue the bank. The Judiciary offices were her first stop. She didn’t have the luxury of hiring a lawyer—thanks to Reagan, she was practically a penniless “been-to” and a shame to her community. 

The forms they handed her were endless. The paperwork was a maze of legal jargon, but she drove in headfirst, not caring about the time or how exhausting it was. She spent the entire day filling out every detail, making sure everything was precise, every word carefully chosen. 

Two days later, she received a letter and an instruction that Ndala Consultancy would hear my case using mediation. “Julie vs. Big Ben Bank”—it was official. Reagan’s name was right there too, as an invited participant. 

Ndala Consultancy exuded an elegance, and its atmosphere was calm. The modestly dressed Secretary who ushered her in had an air of quiet sophistication, her movements graceful. The room she led her to was well lit and at the heart of the room stood a striking centerpiece—a large conference table, surrounding the table were eight chairs, each designed for comfort and focus. The Secretary invited her to sit, sliding a neat stack of forms across the table. She scanned them carefully and signed her name at the bottom. 

From the corner of her eye, she saw Reagan enter the room, followed closely by Ben and Ann. A man in the center, held a microphone, introduced himself as Francis and welcomed them to a new way of mediation. He further introduced them to the “Emotions Room”, a room they were all going to enter. Its purpose, he explained, was to take venting and emotional release to a higher level. Then the twist came, “these sessions,” Francis added, “will be recorded and the portion of the video relevant to you will be shared for you to listen to and reflect upon.” The announcement sent a ripple of tension through the group. The very idea of exposing such vulnerable moments felt like another layer of confrontation. Sensing their unease, Francis spoke again. "But rest assured," he said, "what we're doing here is private and confidential, and it can't be used against any of us in a court of law."

“We shall view one room together.” The room was outfitted with a variety of objects: punching bags for physical release, pillows to scream into, hit or throw, sticks for striking pillows or punching bags, journals for pouring out thoughts, and expressive art tools for those who preferred creating over destroying. 

JULIE IN THE EMOTIONS ROOM

Francis sat calmly. Julie entered the emotions room. Two pillows were there, labelled "Big Ben Bank" and "Reagan."

"Julie, after you’ve vented in the Emotions Room, you’ll watch the videos of Big Ben Bank, and Reagan. It’s important to listen to them carefully, but only once you've had the chance to express yourself first, so you can do so with a clear and open mind. The others will do things differently."

Julie grabbed the stick and the Big Ben Bank pillow.

“Big Ben Bank,” she began, “I entrusted you with my money for safekeeping, and you failed me. Couldn’t you have had a system to track accounts waiting for approval? How could you be so careless? Ann should be fired for incompetence.”

She brought the stick down hard on the pillow. “I want my money back—20 million euros. That money was my future, my identity in this community. I was going to set up a women’s community center. I had everything planned—I even promised jobs to women. Now, I’m nothing.” She let the storm of grief wash over her, her sobs the only sound in the room.

She grabbed the stick and Reagan’s pillow.

“Reagan,” she spat his name like a curse. “Do you know what it means to be a man? A man supports his family. Did you ever give me access to your account? No! But you took from mine without permission.” She was shouting now, her voice raw. “You’re a thief—a robber. You’ve destroyed my future, stolen from my children. You’ve left me bankrupt and broken.”

The stick came down relentlessly, each strike echoing like thunder. It felt as though she was thrashing a young child, but in reality, it was a pillow absorbing her fury. In many traditions, even striking a picture of your husband was considered grave disrespect. She hit, kicked, and pounded. Feathers erupted into the air, drifting like ashes. Exhausted, she turned to Francis.

“Can I have another pillow?” she asked hoarsely.

He blinked, surprised, but handed her one. “It’s for me,” she said bitterly. “Julie, you never once contacted Big Ben Bank while you were abroad. What were you thinking? What kind of person does that? And Reagan—where on earth did you find him? You’re supposed to be intelligent, educated, and organized. How could you end up with a thief and a robber?” She didn’t stop. “Look at you now—a failure, a laughingstock.” The stick hit the pillow like she was doing an African dance of rage. She used her bare hands to shred it further. The room was in chaos. Feathers and fabric lay scattered everywhere.

Francis approached her, his expression calm yet thoughtful. He offered her his hand, helping her to leave the room into the vast room and she sat. 

“That room is a mess,” Francis said lightly, his tone laced with a small laugh. Julie managed a faint smile. 

“Julie,” he said his voice soft but firm, “that’s how your life is right now—a mess. But just as this room can be cleaned, so can your life. We need to put it back in order.” 

On the note pad he wrote the following and shared it with Julie.

1. You want Big Ben Bank to return the 20 million. 

2. You want Anne to apologize personally for her failure and find a way to make amends. '

3. You want Reagan to face what he’s done, apologize, and provide restitution. 

Julie nodded, her throat tight with emotion. 

“Thank you for your sincerity, Julie,” he continued. “It takes courage to confront your emotions like this. Few people have the strength to be so open, even with themselves. I’ll meet with the others now. Rest—you’ve been through a lot.” Julie reached for the glass of water Francis had left her.

BIG BEN BANK STAFF IN THE EMOTIONS ROOM

Francis welcomed the Big Ben Bank staff, and Ben and Ann chose to discuss rather than venting. Francis noted the following points:

1.   Ben acknowledged his failure in supervising Ann effectively and committed to implementing a system to track account permissions and approvals, ensuring better monitoring going forward.

2.   Ann was unaware of Reagan’s actions and did not knowingly permit him to withdraw money from Julie’s account. Her failure to follow proper procedures was purely negligent. She would write an apology letter to Julie.

3.   Reagan’s unauthorized withdrawals caused significant financial harm to Julie and exposed the bank’s lack of safeguards. The bank’s failure to detect these actions over several years contributed to the harm. Reagan’s behavior likely constitutes theft or fraud, a criminal offense under any law. However, the bank recognized its part in the system's failure, which also affected Reagan’s relationship with Julie. While the bank did not excuse his actions, it wanted to support his efforts in making amends, including sponsoring his reconciliation with Julie.

4.   The bank encouraged Julie not to press charges against Reagan for fraud.

REAGAN IN THE EMOTIONS ROOM

Francis welcomed Reagan and he chose to discuss what he had viewed from Julie and Big Ben’s sessions in the emotions room. He wrote a message which he wanted to read to Julie and Big Ben Bank.

The note read;

“After watching you all in the emotions room, I have had a lot of time to reflect on my actions, and I want to express my sincere regret for the pain I have caused Julie, the bank, and everyone involved. At the time, I did not fully understand the gravity of what I was doing. I had allowed Julie to withdraw money from my account with my permission, and I mistakenly believed that this would be acceptable in reverse without her permission. It was selfish of me. 

Seeing the impact of my actions made me realize how complex and damaging the situation has become. I am deeply sorry for the hurt I have caused. I understand now that my behavior not only broke the trust between Julie and I but also violated the bank’s protocols, which I should have respected. I regret my actions and the pain they have caused.

Additionally, I want to acknowledge the unintended consequences for Ann, who had no part in my mistakes. I hope that Ann will not suffer consequences because of my poor decisions. I take full responsibility for my actions and am committed to doing everything in my power to make things right with Julie, the bank, and everyone affected. Further, I humbly request that there be no litigation against me but forgiveness.”

THE NEXT DAY IN THE NEGOTIATION AND RESOLUTION ROOM

In the negotiation room, Francis skilfully mediated the discussion between Julie, Ben, Anne, and Reagan, focusing on finding resolutions that addressed accountability, compensation, and rebuilding trust. He read out the resolutions.

1.     Big Ben Bank’s resolutions to Julie 

· The bank acknowledges its failure to prevent the breach and takes responsibility for the loss of Julie's funds. The bank will provide Julie with 50 million euros in compensation and fund restoration activities for her and her family.

·  The bank will sponsor an activity for Julie and Reagan to help strengthen their relationship, acknowledging the bank's role in their marital strain.

· Big Ben Bank will write an official apology to Julie.

2.     Big Ben Bank’s resolutions to its customers  

· The bank recognizes Anne’s mistake as a lapse in judgment, not malicious, and she will not be fired but will undergo additional training.

3.     Reagan’s resolutions to Julie and the Bank

·  Reagan will issue a sincere apology to Julie.

. Reagan would issue an apology to Big Ben Bank,

·  Reagan is required to participate in community service, as determined by the bank, to atone for his actions. 

All points were accepted by the parties involved, and the necessary documents were signed. Reagan and Julie shared a heartfelt hug and exchanged words of forgiveness, marking the beginning of their journey toward healing. With all matters addressed, Francis officially closed the mediation.

In the days that followed, Reagan and Julie began to deflate from the pressure of the conflict. It felt as though the weight they had carried had been lifted, and they could finally breathe again. While news of the mediation still spread through towns and reached friends and family, the experience at Ndala Consultancy lightened their spirits. They found themselves laughing, particularly when reflecting on how Julie ripped the pillows. It was hard to believe Reagan, of all people, had agreed to attend a mediation session where he was expected to apologize to his wife. But that’s the impact of the global village—it was reshaping how people approached conflict, responsibility, and reconciliation.