I Believe

While visiting one of the villages the other week, I stood surrounded by thirty or so children. Every word, every grunt, and every gesture I made was immediately imitated by the children.

“(cough)” “(Cough)”

“Hey Catie” “Hey Catie”

“Whowhatwhenwherehow” “Whowhatwhenwherehow”

“And that’s English” “English”

I thought to myself, if these kids are gonna mock my every move I may as well teach them a song or two.

“Sweet Caroline” “BUH BUH BUH” “Good times never felt so good” “SO GOOD SO GOOD SO GOOD.”

But that wasn’t enough to crave their energetic minds, they wanted to move. If there’s one thing I have learned here it’s that Ghanaians LOVE to dance.

“I…I…I believe…I believe…I believe that we…I believe that we….I believe that we will win, I BELIEVE THAT WE WILL WIN, I BELIEVE THAT WE WILL WIN.”

The chant was accompanied with clapping and dancing, once the whole phrase was screamed back at me. The kids loved it, so much so that other kids began leading it themselves and eventually the adults too.

As I left the village that day, each person greeted me with the phrase “I believe”. All I could do was laugh at the fact that a chant, which was popularized by american high-school football games left such a lasting effect on the people of this rural Ghanaian village.

My Ghanaian co-workers would not let it go though and the whole next week they nicknamed me “I believe”.

About a week and a half later, I joined several of my colleagues in conducting a seminar about agriculture in another remote part of Ghana. I mostly sat there in a daze as the meeting went on…I’ve become really good at tuning out Twi (the local language) unless they include my name into their dialect.

But then the speaker continued to add “Nick” and “Santa Clara” into what he was saying to the farmers. I awkwardly smiled at the glaring eyes, completely unaware of what he was talking about. Then he came over and brought me to the front of the town hall and told me “I believe”, before leaving me in the front to myself. Ghanaians can be somewhat vague about directions, but this time I knew what he wanted.

“I…I…I believe…I believe…I believe that we…I believe that we….I believe that we will win, I BELIEVE THAT WE WILL WIN, I BELIEVE THAT WE WILL WIN.”

I was amazed at the energy the farmers gave me, some of them being forty, fifty, probably sixty years old. When I left this time, I received a similar reception to the time at the school, and my reaction was mostly the same. I still thought it was funny how adults could be so obsessed with a chant that high-schoolers use to cheer on their team.

Driving home from the village, I turned to Luis (my Ghanaian co-worker) and told him I thought it was funny how Ghana had such an affection with this chant.

He looked at me with a stern face and said “It’s inspirational, it really is. People from the villages hear you say I believe and it gives them hope.”

Now I understand why Ghanaians like this chant so much.