By Liam Newman and Zainab Naveed, UK National Audit Office
This article by Liam Newman and Zainab Naveed (edited by Paul Wright-Anderson), offers their personal reflection on a secondment to St Helena, one of the world’s most remote island states, and highlights the value of staff exchanges and secondments as opportunities for professional and personal growth. Experiences like these provide powerful peer-to-peer learning – an approach that, while central to capacity development, is often discussed less frequently
?than formal training or technical assistance.
The story also speaks directly to the unique challenges faced by small island developing states, a topic currently receiving increased attention.? In this context, short-term secondments can be a particularly effective? ? and flexible way to support small SAIs, helping them manage critical workloads while fostering mutual learning and building long-term professional networks.
Arrival on the Island of Exile
Earlier this year, we were part of a two-person secondment to one of the most remote places on Earth—St Helena, best known as the island where Napoleon Bonaparte was exiled.
The journey from the UK is long and unpredictable. It begins with a flight to Johannesburg, followed by a second flight to the island—assuming the famously erratic weather allows it. August, known locally as Scruffy August, is particularly notorious.
Fortunately, our flight departed on schedule. After one aborted landing attempt due to fog and 40 minutes of circling, we finally touched down on St Helena with a very bumpy landing. We were told we had been lucky—a ten-minute window in the fog allowed us to land. Otherwise, we would have had to spend the night on Ascension Island, a joint US-UK military base two hours to the north.
First Impressions
From the air, St Helena appeared stark and foreboding—dominated by dramatic rock formations left behind by ancient volcanic eruptions. Before the airport opened in 2016, when the only route to the island was a five-day sea voyage from Cape Town, the sense of remoteness must have been even more intense.
But the moment we landed, any feelings of isolation quickly gave way to warmth. The people of St Helena welcomed us with open arms. In our first few weeks, hardly a night passed without a social invitation. From helping to gut fish, to climbing the island’s iconic 699-step Jacob’s Ladder, I tested my promise to say “yes” to every opportunity.
Working with Audit St Helena
During our secondment, we assisted Audit St Helena in completing two key audits:
- The Airport Audit: Once dubbed “the world’s most useless airport,” St Helena’s airport now receives weekly flights (and additional ones during the festive season). Yet questions persist about the scale of investment, making this a high-profile audit.
- The Bulk Fuel Installation Audit: We also audited the island’s fuel storage facility—critical infrastructure for an isolated island reliant on imports.
Audit St Helena serves a population of fewer than 4,000 with a team of just 15 staff, yet carries the full mandate of a supreme audit institution (SAI). On an island this size, professional independence demands constant vigilance. Everyone knows everyone, and it’s not uncommon for audit staff to have family working in auditees.
We gained valuable insight into how the office manages these unique risks—challenges rarely faced in larger jurisdictions.
Challenges and Ingenuity
Audit St Helena’s small size means it cannot bring in subject matter experts for complex audits. Where institutions like the UK’s National Audit Office (NAO) rely on hubs of expertise, Audit St Helena must make do with standards, audit manuals—and a whiteboard.
The value-for-money audit team consists of just two people, requiring broad and versatile skills. In this context, the support offered by the NAO’s UK Overseas Territories technical cooperation team—through training, guidance, and advice—is indispensable.
Island Life: Community and Connection
Beyond the office, we immersed ourselves in island life. We joined the St Helena Football League, tackled as many of the famed Post Box Walks as we could, and met Jonathan the tortoise—the world’s oldest known living land animal, estimated to be 191 years old.?
One highlight was winning a quiz night at the local Rock Club—though we must admit we had plenty of help from teammates during the “local knowledge” round!
Our two months on the island were deeply enriching. We both agree: it was one of the best things we’ve ever done.
Daily life here is charming and refreshingly simple—from visiting five different shops to complete your grocery run, to waving at every passing driver and greeting everyone in town. What we’ll miss most is the deep sense of community.
Life on St Helena felt like a return to how humans are meant to live—something that often feels lost in the hustle of big cities like London. The experience reminded us of the value of slowness, simplicity, and connection. We were forced to be present, to live intentionally—and it changed us. Hopefully for good.
Reflections from the Chief Auditor
Brendon Hunt, Chief Auditor of St Helena, shared:
“As a SAI in a small, remote location, we face multiple resourcing challenges: a declining and ageing population, the near absence of local professional firms for temporary support, and delays in overseas recruitment due to extended immigration processes.
In the year of the secondment, we were required to audit nearly two full financial years of government accounts—including the State-Owned Entities—within the same timeframe. The secondment allowed us to substantially complete two SOE audits in just two months.
What might seem like a small contribution in a larger organisation had a magnified impact here. The secondment was instrumental in enabling us to complete the audit of the 2023/24 government accounts within the constitutional deadline.”
Final Thoughts
Our time on St Helena reminded us that audit work in small jurisdictions is both incredibly demanding and incredibly meaningful. It tested our skills, deepened our appreciation for community, and redefined our understanding of what really matters—both professionally and personally.
We leave changed, grateful, and full of admiration for the resilience and warmth of this extraordinary island.