Universities may have orthodox choirs established within music schools and departments. Others may be church-based, servicing religious bodies and various sites of worship. Yet beyond formal structures, universities also have a subculture of social groups that wield enormous power, and impact student lives even more than the formal governance protocols.

Thus outside the official junior common room governance unit, there is also a parallel outfit, founded on local traditions, that virtually drives the heartbeat of student activism. This alternate governance regime, unrecognized by officialdom, uses traditional titles like Chief Vandal, Landlord, Odikro, Chief Farmer, Queen Mother etc. Associated with this informal set-up is also a singing throng, a mass recreational ensemble politely labelled as a ‘Choir.’

Thus you have the Vandal Choir of Commonwealth Hall, UG; the Okponglo Choir of Sarbah Hall, UG; Katanga Choir of University Hall, KNUST; Casford Choir of Caseley Hayford Hall, UCC, etc. Each of these choral groups has a leader, a choirmaster, appointed by a traditional council. The choirmaster is often a bubbly, cheerful persona, who is a conductor, teacher and sometimes ace composer.

Choir masters are also revered lead singers and dramatists, who seize the centre stage in public displays throughout a performance, and are carried shoulder high at peak moments. Throughout a public display, the choirmaster is locked in visual dialogue with the mass choir and drives the momentum with high-energy skits.

Acting as cheerleaders or morale boosters, such choirs are open-ended in membership but are nevertheless restricted to residents, both certified and ‘perchers’ alike. In recent times, when halls of mixed gender became the norm, women have joined their male counterparts, sharing performance honours in such choirs.

These ensembles largely ply their art inside and outside the halls of residence, and as well animate social events like sports, hall festivals, picketing, demonstrations, etc with singing and choreographed ‘Action’: jumping, clapping, hand waves, and feet shuffling, meant to signify unity, brotherhood, and solidarity. Hall choirs are, above all, tools for social mobilization for various causes.

Their repertoire of songs ranges from orthodox and Pentecostal praise to secular renditions of praise songs mostly about respective hall heroes. But song themes may dramatically mutate to the domain of profanity and obscenity, which mostly teases the female gender, and celebrates masculine prowess and peaks of pleasure.

If those musical ensembles are designated as ‘choirs,’ it is partly due to their skills in corrupting the lyrics of religious music and superimposing on these, vulgar and blasphemous diction, that lightens up social events, generating humour and excitement among students, and conversely outrage within the corridors of power. The term ‘choir’ applied in self-reference, is a glorified label meant to lend their art a flavour of piety.

In the past, hall choirs even organised inter-hall competitions where they would outdo one another in the creative arts of profanity, with winners declared.

Alumni of such choirs are incidentally spread throughout the country and currently hold high executive positions in various sectors of Ghanaian public life. A register of celebrities who played pivotal roles in various residential choirs will soon be leaked in my posts.

Among such groups, lewd and explicitly obscene songs are sung to entertain, relieve stress, and sometimes vent pent-up anxieties, as prevalent in the military. When such explicitly profane songs are sung at formal events, and in full view of august visitors, this has often drawn the fury of university leadership. A major concern of course is their occasional slippage into excesses, and their misuse as catalysts for physical attacks, and destruction of property.

An Encounter

You may then understand my plight in late 2017, during a major event I organized at the hallowed premises of Christ the King Church in Accra. I was minister-of-state in charge of tertiary education at the time; and the occasion was the launch of my latest book, The Missing Pages of June 4th. Not long after the start of the program, I heard a chorus of voices approaching the packed auditorium from a distance. Who were these? Unknown to me, I had unusual guests on my hands. It was the Okpo Choir from Mensah Sarbah Hall, who had come to give moral support to their former hall master who was launching his latest book.

Anxiety swirled in me as I sat on the high table, sandwiched by Archbishop Palmer-Buckle and Madam Joyce Aryee. The auditorium was indeed packed with dignitaries; but what songs were in the repertoire of the Okpo boys closing up?

To everybody’s relief, the Okpo Choir was at its best behaviour, apparently observing the limits of free-style singing and dancing. They spent some time merrymaking with Pentecostal praise at the sprawling Christ the King car park and solemnly entered the auditorium, dressed in customized black T-shirts, and marching in choreographed rhythm.

Happily, they were singing songs that were appropriately suited for the Christ the King environment. I had earlier advised the MC not to panic, or embarrass them since they meant well. They were given a place to sit as guests; and when it was my turn to speak as an author, I acknowledged their presence and asked for a round of applause for the special Okpo choir.

The truth is that whether dealing with the conventional choir or these recreational song ensembles, you have on hand a university with a sprawling talent base, replete with a variegated skills set, which can be tapped, finetuned, and reformed, to service a wide range of artistic projects, for national development.

While one batch of students may choose to join a conformist choral club, others may opt for radical ensembles, that thrive on creative indulgence and nevertheless enrich the ebullience of student life. University life may find its utmost fulfilment with a smattering of constructive ventures beyond academia.

NEXT POST: Stanza 3. Dreaming a University Choir