By Soraya Joonas 

Twenty annual audits. 

It's a phrase that sounds procedural, almost routine… until you stop and think about what it really holds.

When I first joined Inyathelo, Cassandra and I entered our first audit cycle together.  As she retires, we are completing our twentieth audit.

But Cassandra’s contribution to Inyathelo was never only about audits.  At that time, she had already been with the organisation for over two years and I remember a colleague Afrika affectionately calling her ‘mother’.

And now, Bayanda her present day colleague, said on her final day, “Who am I going to ask now?”

Later, reflecting on what Cassandra meant to the organisation, Bayanda added: “For me she has always been a go-to person and even if you wanted to have a serious chat, she was always a welcoming person.  She is very knowledgeable about her work and life.”

That sentiment captures something many of us have experienced.  Cassandra became one of those rare people in an organisation whom everyone knew they could approach.  Whether the matter involved an invoice, catering, a supplier query, a policy, a practical problem, or simply a conversation.  She was a hub within our non-profit hub and her door and her heart was always open whether at the Cape Quarter where we first opened, at Fairweather House and finally at Buchanan Square in Woodstock.

The responses I received when I asked colleagues to describe Cassandra were remarkably consistent.  Different people, different roles, different eras of Inyathelo, yet the same themes surfaced again and again: loyal, committed, collegial, fun, knowledgeable, trustworthy and caring.

Suzanne summed it up in a single word: “Caring.”

Rachel reflected, “It was a privilege working alongside her.  A genuinely caring colleague who will be deeply missed.”

Jocelyn perhaps captured another side of Cassandra particularly well:

“Cassandra is the kind, friendly and loving person who welcomes and embraces you into the organisation.  At the same time she is the strict and stubborn mother-figure who keeps a steady hand on things at Inyathelo.”

I smiled when I read that because it is true.

For me, however, the twenty audits tell their own story.

Audit cycles are not easy.  They demand long hours, precision under pressure, and a level of endurance that few outside the process truly appreciate.  Yet across twenty of them, we carried that responsibility together; navigating late nights, shifting demands, inevitable pressure points, and still delivering work that held its standard.

Over time, I came to appreciate just how much of financial leadership depends not only on strategy and oversight, but on the strength of the person closest to the detail.  As Accounts Coordinator, Cassandra was that person.

She carried the backbone of the process; the detail, the follow-through, the relentless checking and rechecking that ensured that when files reached my desk, they held.

She understood that the work was never simply about numbers.  It was about responsibility.  About safeguarding standards.  About doing things properly, even when it would have been easier not to.

In a world where many seek the spotlight, Cassandra was a steady hand quietly keeping the foundation strong.

Over the years, a quite trust took shape; the kind built through consistency, pressure, problem-solving and time, working side by side.  It is the kind of trust that doesn’t need to be spoken, because it shows up in how seamlessly things get done and allows you to move through complexity with confidence, knowing that the person alongside you will meet the moment.

One observation shared by Feryal resonated deeply with me: “Cassandra operated the finance office as though it belonged to her.  Not because it was hers, but because she cared.  She approached her responsibilities with a profound sense of ownership and stewardship, exercising the governance duties of loyalty, obedience and care over the areas entrusted to her.”  In doing so, she helped build a finance function grounded not only in competence, but in accountability, trust and integrity.

There was always a shared commitment to not simply get things done, but get them right.  That alignment made difficult moments manageable and outcomes stronger.

Twenty audits is certainly a milestone.  But what it truly represents is something much deeper: consistency, resilience, institutional knowledge, loyalty and standards that quietly shaped the organisation year after year.

As Cassandra retires, she leaves behind far more than completed audits.  She leaves behind systems that worked because she made them work, relationships that mattered, and a standard of care and dependability that will continue to be felt long after this final audit cycle closes.

Cassandra is warm.  She is funny.  She is a wonderful storyteller.  She has taught me so much both in work and in life.  She has long been my best budget friend, but far more importantly, a special friend.  I thank her for the twenty audits, and for everything behind them that can’t be captured in a file or a report.

And perhaps Zuki said it most simply:

“To Cass, enjoy your retirement knowing that we miss you every day.  Your company was so appreciated and we feel the void.  Look after yourself, your husband, your children and grandchildren.  We miss you.”

I'd like to finish with Jacques’ poetic contribution to Cassandra, beautifully capturing the dedication and spirit she brought to Inyathelo every day.

Almost 22 years of sharp eyes and steady hands,
every number checked twice, every slip checked in rands.

She ran the kitchen like a general at war:
"Don't pile your plate, there are others in store!"

Then she'd turn to the team, and what would appear?
A sneaked plate of food with a "This is for you, my dear."

The sternest of wardens.  The warmest of she.
But don't meet her wrong side, or else you will see.

Go well, our dear Cass; you have more than earned rest.
Of all those who served here, you gave us your best.

The ledgers were lucky.  The kitchen kept right.
And we were the luckiest to be held in your sight.

Inyathelo is quieter, the desk standing bare,
but "My dear" still echoes, still warm in the air.

Wishing Cassandra a retirement that is restful, fulfilling, joyful and entirely on her own terms.