Eunice Njeri - Tambarare Lyrics
Lyrics
Giza mbele na mauti nyuma
Pande zote huo umeshindwa kwamba nini
Pesa hakuna mali umenyang'anywa
Wamekukimbia uliowategemea
Nasikia sauti kilio cha Yesu
Njooni kwangu mlio na mizigo
Nitawapumzisha hakuna kilio tena
Nitawapumzisha wataimba haleluya
Nitaifanya milima tambarare
Nitayafanya mabonde yote yajae
Ntanyosha sawa njia zote
Wanadamu tutauona eeh
Ntaifanya mambo yote mapya eeh Tazama natenda kitu kipya leo Imba kwa shangwe wewe uliye tasa Shangilia sana wewe uliye tasa Panua nafasi imani mwako Tandaza pazia hapo unapoishi Utapanuka kila upande Wazawa wako watamiliki mataifa Sema Bwana
Nitaifanya milima tambarare
Nitayafanya mabonde yote yajae
Ntanyosha sawa njia zote
Wanadamu tutauona eeh
Unaweza Yesu wewee, Mungu wangu unaweza Mungu wangu wewe, Unaweza Hakuna linalikushinda unaweza Yesu wee, Yesu wee, Unaweza Jehovah Shammah, Unaweza Jehovah Rapha, Unaweza Jehovah Nissi Unaweza Elshaddai Unaweza
Video
Eunice Njeri - TAMBARARE (Official Music Video)
Meaning & Inspiration
I keep thinking about the line where she talks about making the mountains flat and filling the valleys. It pulls straight from Isaiah, that idea of making the rough ground level for the Lord. It’s comforting to hear, especially when the song starts off describing such a dark place where people have left you and you’ve lost everything. I’ve been there, where it feels like death is behind you and darkness is ahead. It’s easy to believe that kind of promise when you’re desperate. But then I sit with it, and I wonder if I’m reading too much into the promise of the mountains being flattened. Does God always make the way smooth, or is He just with us in the middle of the mess?
The shift in the song, moving into that command to sing even when you’re barren—like she says to the one who is tasa—it reminds me of how Isaiah speaks to those who have no children, telling them to enlarge their tent. It’s a bold kind of faith, acting like the promise is already here even when the room feels empty. It feels very biblical, this way of speaking to things that aren't as though they were. But I find myself struggling with that, just a little. Is the promise of the mountains becoming tambarare meant to be a literal change in my circumstances, or is it something else? I know God is Jehovah Rapha and Nissi, and He’s definitely able, but sometimes I worry we lean too hard into expecting Him to fix the landscape rather than changing us. Still, there’s something about that invitation to expand the space you live in, to stretch out your curtains, that feels like a real call to trust Him beyond what I can see. It makes me question if my own lack of hope is actually a lack of faith in His ability to move the mountains I’ve been staring at for years. I don’t know if it’s always that simple, but the song really makes me want it to be.