Chioma Jesus - Odighi Onye Ozo Lyrics
Lyrics
Odighi onye oza na eluwa odighi onye ozo Odighi chiozo na eligwe odigi chiozo Nani Jesus na irumuo Nani Jesus nazum Nani ya geburu nmkpam nile odighi chiozo Owegi ike ozo na’oke osimiri owegi ike ozo There’s no other name Beneath the heavens there’s no other name Only Jesus I know, only Jesus I know Only him will answer when I cry there’s no other God Only Jesus I know, only Jesus I know Only him will answer when I cry there’s no other God
Owegi onye ozo in my life there’s no other God I will never serve any other God is only you Jehovah You are the only living God Owegi ike ozo in my ministry there’s no other God Owegi ike ozo in my marriage m owegi ike ozo Owegi chiozo na alamuo owegi chiozo Only Jesus I know, only Jesus I know Only him will answer when I cry there’s no other God
Hosanna siri eze nke eligwe Only n’achi eze rue ebighiebi Ndi nmzi n’ile Ha nakpo isiala Ha nasi nso ka Jehovah did Odighi onye gin a ya n’achi eze Odighi onye gi nay a n’achi eligwe Okakam okakam Eze idi ebube Aha gi juru eligwe ju’uwa Odighi onye onye gi na ya n’achi nala nmuo Odighi onye onye gi na ya n’achi no’keosimiri neligwe Nobody no power can challenge your majesty No king, no principalities and powers can withstand your authority Okakam okakam Ewu ezem onyeomame Idi’ebube Ahagi juru eligwe ju’uwa Onye meme ihe na digi eme eme na eluwa Ancient of days Jehovah Jireh Jehovah Yaweh is your name All mighty God Beside thee there’s no other God He that lives and never die You are worthy, worthy, worthy of my praise Okakam okakam onyewem le Okakam eze ebube Idi’ebube, idi’ebube Aha gi juru eligwe ju’uwa
Okakam is your name Amen
Video
Chioma Jesus - Odighi Onye Ozo [Official Video]
Meaning & Inspiration
I keep coming back to a tiny, three-word fragment in Chioma Jesus’ lyrics: "Only him will answer."
It sits there, wedged between the declarations of "no other name" and "no other God." On the surface, it’s a standard affirmation of faith—the kind of line you’d find in a thousand hymns. But when you look at it under the light of real human desperation, the sentence starts to twist.
"Only him will answer when I cry."
There is a terrifying weight to that word "only." Most of us spend our lives layering our safety nets. We have friends, we have savings, we have our own wits, and we have people we can call at 3:00 a.m. We are allergic to the idea of "only." We prefer the comfort of "also" and "as well as." We want the divine to be one of many options in our survival kit. But here, Chioma Jesus isn't offering a buffet of spiritual support; she’s stripping the floorboards out from under the listener.
She isn't just saying that Jesus is the best option; she’s saying he is the only one who actually hears the frequency of a human sob.
Think about the tension here. If God is the only one who answers, what does that imply about the silence of everyone else? When you are in the thick of a crisis—a marriage failing, a ministry stalling, the "oke osimiri" (great ocean) of life rising—the people around you often go quiet. They don't know what to say, or they offer empty platitudes, or they simply don't have the capacity to carry your burden. Suddenly, the theological claim becomes a visceral reality: you are standing in a field with no one else to turn to.
It’s an aggressive kind of loneliness.
When Scripture says in Acts 4:12 that there is "no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved," it’s a broad, salvific claim. But Chioma Jesus brings it down to the dirt. She isn’t talking about global theology; she’s talking about the specific moment the tears start falling. It forces a collision between our pride and our need. To say "only him" is to admit that all your other backup plans are ghosts.
Is it a cliché? It could have been. If she had just sung it as a mantra, it might have washed over me and been forgotten. But there is something in the way she frames it—a refusal to acknowledge any other power, any other source of strength in the marriage or the ministry—that makes it feel less like a hymn and more like a lifeline thrown into a dark room.
It leaves me feeling a bit exposed. If I’m honest, I don't really want "only" Jesus. I want Jesus plus my health. I want Jesus plus my competence. I want Jesus plus a little bit of control over the outcome. To hold onto the idea that he is the only answer is to let go of everything else. That’s not a comfortable place to stand. It’s precarious. But looking at these lines, I start to wonder if that discomfort is exactly where the faith actually begins.