The modest community hall was deftly decorated and prepared for the conference. Rows of neatly arranged chairs faced a small stage, where a lectern and five chairs awaited the panelists. Above it, a simple banner read: “Principles for Effective Parenting” in bold, cheerful letters.

Remaliah, dressed in a rather sharp suit, adjusted his tie as he pushed open the door and stepped inside the hall. A young volunteer with an eager smile hurried over to greet him. “Good afternoon, sir! Welcome to the seminar. Please, take a seat anywhere you like.”

“Thank you,” he responded with a polite nod as he moved to find himself a seat.

The room was sparsely filled—parents, young couples, and a few older attendees chatting quietly among themselves. As he moved to an empty chair near the middle of the hall and took a seat, his sharp eyes scanned the stage, noting the empty chairs and lectern awaiting the panelists.

Sighing to himself, he sat back and observed the hall, nodding and saying hello to the odd person here and there. One or two couples commented on how excited they were for the seminar, and he nodded in agreement.

Indeed, he was excited, but for a totally different reason. While these couples probably looked forward to empowering speeches on parenthood, he was looking forward to empowering truth by exposing one of the prospective givers of those speeches.

Drusilla hadn’t packed this classy suit for nothing; he was here to do business. After seeing the flyer, she was fully in alignment with her husband’s plan, still disgusted with their uncaring ways.

As the second couple to engage him passed by, the creak of the hall door opening drew his gaze.

They were in.

Brogan and Martina Acolatse entered, looking highly polished in their appearances. While Brogan was dressed in a sharp navy suit exuding confidence, Martina glided beside him in a vibrant blouse and skirt.

Remaliah’s jaw tightened. He watched as they made their way to the front, greeting a few attendees with cheerful nods and handshakes before settling into their seats onstage.

He shook his head slowly in amazement and disbelief. Their audacity truly was staggering. These were the same people who had written off their daughter without hesitation, condemning her for a mistake and abandoning her when she needed them most. And yet, here they were, ready to deliver lessons on parenting.

“The absolute cheek of it,” he muttered to himself.

Just then, a well dressed man stepped onto the stage, tapping the microphone to test it. “Good afternoon, everyone,” he began, his voice warm and welcoming. “We’re so glad you could join us today. In a few moments, we’ll begin our seminar: Principles for Effective Parenting. Please make sure you’re comfortable, and we’ll get started shortly.”

Remaliah nodded. The show was about to begin.

***

“Discipline isn’t about punishment. It’s about guidance—creating boundaries that show our children we care. Without discipline, children can lose their way, but with it, they thrive.”

About an hour and a half had gone by, and the seminar had gone swimmingly so far. Obviously, Remaliah knew little about the other panelists, so he enjoyed their submissions. Now, though, speaking on the topic of discipline, were the Acolatses.

He sat in silence, staring at them with a look that could cut glass, disgust twisting in his chest. Every word from their mouths felt like a mockery of the truth he knew. He still could not believe they had this platform.

Brogan continued passionately. “Take our own daughter, for example. She’s a shining testament to what consistent discipline and support can achieve. Thanks to the values we instilled in her, she’s now studying in the United States at Columbia University, pursuing her dreams and making us proud every day.”

Martina chimed in, her voice tinged with pride. “She’s always been so driven, and we’ve always been there to guide her. She’s a perfect example of what’s possible when parents and children work together.”

Applause rippled through the audience, a few attendees nodding in admiration.

Remaliah, on the other hand, almost doubled over and screamed in shock.

For a moment, he thought he’d misheard them. But no—their words were crystal clear. Their daughter was in the United States of America, studying at Columbia University.

He could not believe it.

They were lying to the people? They actually sat down to cook this fallacy and feed it to these unsuspecting folks?

This couple was even sicker than he had imagined. In private, they had washed their hands off her in the cruelest manner possible, yet in public, they had conveniently packaged her absence with a story that gave them a glowing reputation. Absolutely shameless.

“Well, well, well,” he muttered under his breath, his voice low enough that no one could hear. “Looks like the Q&A session will be very, very juicy. Bask in your applause for now. The truth will soon have its moment.”

***

Thirty minutes on, and the seminar was coming to an end. The moderator made his way to the lectern.

“Thank you to our dear panelists for that insightful session. Parenting is indeed a journey, and it’s clear you all have much to share. Now, we’d like to open the floor for questions. If you have a question, please raise your hand, and we’ll pass you the microphone.”

Before the sentence was finished, Remaliah’s hand shot up. The moment he had been waiting for had finally arrived.

“Ah, we have a question already,” the moderator commented with a smile, pointing to him. “I love the enthusiasm. Sir, please go ahead.”

The microphone was handed to Remaliah, who stood up. With a readied sigh, he began.

“Good afternoon, everyone,” he began, a genial smile on his face. “My name is Retired Lieutenant Colonel Remaliah Mills-Odoi. As my name already tells you, I’m a retired soldier. I’m a husband, and a proud father of two daughters. First of all, I want to commend the organizers for putting this seminar together. Parenting is a critical topic in our world today, and it’s wonderful to see people coming together to share ideas and experiences. I have no doubt that programs like this will greatly benefit us all.”

The audience nodded and murmured in agreement, their attention fixed on him. Even Brogan and Martina wore polite smiles, appreciating his comment.

Remaliah’s smile faded slightly, his tone shifting to something sharper, more pointed. “Now, I do have a question for the organizers,” he continued, turning his gaze to the Acolatses. “Do you do due diligence?”

A wave of confusion rippled through the audience. Brogan exchanged a glance with Martina, both clearly puzzled.

“Due diligence?” Brogan asked, forcing a chuckle. “I’m not sure I understand the question, sir.”

Remaliah nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing. “Oh, don’t worry. Let me clarify. Due diligence is about verifying the truth before presenting it as fact. It’s about ensuring you know who and what you’re dealing with. And I ask this for a simple reason: if the organizers of this seminar had done theirs, they’d have known the two of you, Mr. and Mrs. Acolatse, are unfit to lecture anyone on parenting.”

A stunned silence fell over the room. The Acolatses froze in their seats, shocked at this sudden attack.

“Excuse me?” Martina demanded, her voice trembling with offence. “What do you mean by that?”

Remaliah ignored her, and held the microphone firmly, his voice steady and commanding. “You see, everyone, Mr and Mrs. Acolatse have a daughter, as they already said. A young woman named Akushika. They’ve just told you she’s studying in a top university in the United States. A testament to their amazing parenting skills, right? Well, I’m here to tell you, that’s not the truth.”

Gasps erupted from the audience, and all eyes turned to the Acolatses, who sat stunned.

Remaliah continued, his voice growing firmer with each word. “Akushika isn’t in the United States. She’s in my home in Kumasi. And why is that so, you ask? Because my wife and I are caring for her… and her baby. A baby these ‘amazing’ parents ordered her to abort when they found out. And duly disowned her when she chose to keep it, throwing her out onto the streets and not caring an iota about what happened to her.”

The room buzzed with murmurs and whispers as Brogan and Martina Acolatse shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Brogan leaned forward, his face flushed with a mixture of anger and embarrassment. “I don’t know what the hell this man is talking about. This is clearly an outright fabrication!”

Martina nodded quickly, her tone sharper. “Absolutely! This is an outrageous claim! Security, please remove this man before he causes any more disruption. He’s clearly deranged.”

Remaliah chuckled, gripping the microphone firmly. “Outrageous claim, eh?” he repeated, shaking his head. “Outright fabrication? Okay. No problem.”

He gestured toward the audience. “Let’s do this simple act. Why not call Akushika? Right here, in front of everyone. Let her confirm she’s in the United States, as you claim. Let her confirm to everyone just how amazing you two have been to her. I mean, that shouldn’t be a problem, right? If she answers and confirms your good works, then go ahead and throw me out. Have me arrested, in fact. Go on.”

The Acolatses froze, their polished veneer slipping further. Martina opened her mouth as if to speak, but no words came out.

“Go ahead. Columbia University is in New York, right? They’re 5 hours behind us, and it’s… currently 3:15 here in Ghana. So it should be about 10:15 over there. She’s definitely awake by now, so she can answer her phone. I know this coz my daughters live in New York. Please, go ahead. Prove to everyone that I’m a deranged old man.”

The Acolatse couple remained frozen in their seats, clearly sucker punched by this dare. None of them seemed ready to even reach for their phone to try and attempt a call. This inaction had the moderator and other panelists turning to look at them strangely, while the gathering murmured loudly in amazement.

Remaliah smirked. “But of course, you wouldn’t be able to, would you? Because you blocked the poor girl’s number a long time ago. And somehow, you recently gave a letter to the baby daddy in respect of your relationship with her. A letter that, quite honestly, is heartbreaking if you’re a parent. My wife had a breakdown when she read that letter, because she couldn’t understand for the life of her how a father and mother can throw their daughter under the bus so swiftly after she makes a mistake.”

The colour drained from their faces upon hearing of the letter. If the dare was a sucker punch, this mention was a major uppercut.

Brogan then stood to his feet in defiance. “This is a lie! A blatant lie!”

Martina joined him. “Yes! Yes, it’s not true. All he’s saying is false!”

Remaliah simply smirked and shook his head. “Mr. Moderator, I have the letter right here, if you want to see it. Duly signed by both of them. Come read it and see for yourself.”

“No, don’t go!” Brogan snarled at the moderator. “Get him out of here! Don’t you see he’s crazy? Security! Get him out!”

“Get him out now!” Martina added, her face flushed with fury and a bit of humiliation.

The moderator, caught between the escalating tension and the demand for truth, hesitated. His eyes darted between the furious Acolatse couple and the calm, almost amused Remaliah. The room buzzed with whispers and the air was thick with anticipation. After a moment of internal conflict, he decided to walk over to Remaliah, despite the protests of the Acolatses.

“May I see this letter?”

Remaliah duly took it out of his pocket and handed it to him. His eyes scanned the contents quickly. As he read, his expression shifted from one of mere interest to one of horror.

“Jesus! What kind of wicked language is this?” he whispered.

He glanced at the signatures at the bottom of the document, familiar with them from previous contracts he had overseen for the couple. There was no doubt; these were indeed the signatures of Brogan and Martina Acolatse.

Turning to face the couple, the moderator’s voice was stern, his previous hesitation replaced by determination. “Did you actually write this?” he asked, holding up the letter.

Brogan’s face was a mask of indignation. “No! This is a complete fabrication!”

Martina, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and fear, echoed her husband. “We would never! This is a setup!”

The moderator frowned and shook his head. “I’m sorry, but… your signatures are here, and they match the ones on your contracts. If this letter is indeed a lie, then why would your signatures be on it?”

Martina, her voice a pitch higher, insisted, “Someone must have forged our signatures. We didn’t write that!”

Brogan pointed a finger at Remaliah. “I don’t know who you’re working for, but tell them it’s not going to…”

“Mr. and Mrs. Acolatse, please!” the moderator interjected. “Please. Enough of this. This gentleman has made allegations and provided proof that’s quite… damning. He also asked you to call your daughter to prove him wrong, and you barely moved a muscle. I’m sorry, but in the presence of everyone here, I’m going to have to ask you to let us know, is this the truth or not?”

The couple went silent, and for a long moment, did not utter a word. The pressure of the moment, the overwhelming scrutiny and critical looks from the audience, and the undeniable evidence seemed to slowly chip away their resolve.

“Mr. and Mrs. Acolatse! Please, for the last time, did you write this letter? Are this man’s allegations true?”

Finally, Brogan’s shoulders slumped, and he looked down, his voice low but full of wrath. “She… she brought disgrace on our name. We had a reputation to protect.”

The hall rumbled with gasps of shock and disbelief.

Martina looked around the hall, her eyes still flashing with anger. “You people wouldn’t understand. None of you! After all we did for her…”

“Enough!” Remaliah bellowed, his eyes blazing with a mix of anger and disgust. “Don’t you dare speak of disgrace and reputation! Shika made a mistake—yes, a significant one—but what does this say about you, huh? You’ve thrown her under the bus, disowned her for what? A mistake in judgment with some foolish boy? That’s not good enough!”

Turning to the audience, he continued. “Let me tell you something about parenting. As a soldier, I was obviously a disciplinarian, a strict one at that, but I understood the balance between discipline and love. My daughters knew not to misbehave, but they also knew that if they fell, I would be there to help them back up, not to push them further down. If Adoley or Dromo ever messed around and got pregnant out of wedlock, they know I’d be mad at them. But they also knew I’d do whatever was necessary to hold them up and support them. Why? Because I love them. Even when they mess up monumentally, they’re still my girls, and I love them, no matter what. My love for them isn’t dependent on what they do or don’t do, it’s dependent on the fact that I’m their father, and that’ll never change. That is what parenting is!”

The room suddenly exploded with applause. Remaliah was slightly taken aback at the reaction, but then lowered his mic and glared at the Acolatses, whose faces were etched with an equal mix of wrath and embarrassment.

When the audience was done, he continued, his icy gaze still fixed on the couple. “You have the temerity to tell us you disowned your daughter because she embarrassed you? That’s not protecting a reputation; that’s destroying a family. And for what? So you can stand here and pretend to be models of virtue? Behave like you’re bastions of the art of parenting? You hypocrites! You’ve not only failed as parents but as human beings. You’ve not only betrayed your daughter but everyone here who believes in the sanctity of family. Shame on you!”

Many audience members murmured in agreement, repulsion on their faces as they stared at the couple now.

With a final look of contempt, Remaliah turned to the moderator. “Sir, with all due respect, next time you organize a seminar like this, please, do your due diligence. There are so many couples out there who are amazing and shining examples of parenthood and would be qualified to share their opinions. Not these two. They are a disgrace to the godly gift of parenthood, and they have no right whatsoever to lecture anyone on parenting or morality. Thank you very much.”

He then handed the mic over to him, turned on his heel, and strode out of the hall, leaving a silence heavy with judgment and the murmurs of the audience in his wake.

Sir Remmy giving us more joy with this teardown of these hypocrites! Lovely stuff! They deserved that humiliation…