It is 4:00 a.m., some who are not morning people call it an ‘ungodly hour’. But for me, early morning is when I do some of my best work. It allows me to work in peace, in quiet and in reflection – no physical backstopping requests from others still asleep.

At my desk, doing a mini internal audit of our organization’s books of accounts for August – confirming the reports are backed by valid supporting documentation, before I sign off and dispatch.

The electronic books of accounts inputted and generated out of our Quickbooks database must match the handwritten physical journal in the box files and the physical journal must be backed with supporting eligible documentation.

As I work, I drift off in thought to 1992. I am fresh out of university, at my first job as an administrative assistant. I do not know anything about bookkeeping and financial management.

My boss, an American of origin from Pennsylvania, who was later to become my beloved mentor, now rested, gives me a quick introduction to bookkeeping and hands me an easy to follow booklet he authored: “Bookkeeping for Development Groups.”

He is rushing off to go and conduct self-reliant participatory development training in a remote district far away in Uganda, that I have never been. He tasks me to read the booklet and practice until his return from up-country in two to three weeks time.

I am alone in the office and I hear his voice reminding me, “bookkeeping is simply storytelling – telling the story in a few words and numbers of where the money came from and where it went.”

That is how I learnt the principles of double-entry bookkeeping.

I recall how, because I worked with him, I got to visit with his family, his brother and his sister in love, in Pennsylvania. I got to see two different United States of America (USA) during my short visit in Pennsylvania.

I was on my own, unaccompanied by him, and so I got to see it all in my own eyes. My hosts made me feel they were happy and proud to host me in their home and community, irrespective of not being accompanied by him.

I remember my hosts introducing me as she who worked with their loved one in Africa. And I kind of felt like a little exotic queen bee of black Africans among wealthy white people and communities I had only seen in the movies.

On my return from Pennsylvania, I remember having long chats with my mentor about what I had seen and him filling in the context. I got to greatly appreciate the context of our societies in which the rich and the poor live different lives.

Appreciating the story of where their money initially came from and where it goes and circles back to them keeping them rich; and how intentionally or unintentionally it likely keeps the poor poor. As in where the money never went and never goes.

I wonder. Would things be different now for some of the USA poor if the promise was implemented to formerly enslaved people in the USA of “40 acres and a mule”, Special Field Orders No. 15 of General William T. Sherman?

Anyway, landing back home to today.

How far I have come. Auditing books of account as though I was the auditor general, when my life skill was mastered via one-on-one hands on practical on the job learning.

I hold no paper qualifications in it but I am surely among the best, I can comfortably conclude, in comparison with my fellow nonprofit chief executive officers.

I am forever grateful to my mentor, Stan Burkey, may his soul continue to rest in power.

All sources and destination of funds confirmed legit. August books of accounts are in order and financial statements dispatched. Time to unwind, with the pleasant memory of my furthest trip from home, my only ever trip to Pennsylvania.