Flavour - Kanayo Lyrics
Lyrics
Nma nma nma nma Nma nma chimo Imela Nma nma nma nma Nma nma chimo Imela
Chioma me ee Eze ebube mo Egbeku edike naya Oge amara erula Ebere chuckwu kanayo Kanayo kanayo Aru isike kanayo Kanayo kanayo Amara chukwu kanayo ni me onodua
Aga ma turu gi Nma nma nma nma Nma nma Chimoo emela Agama turu gi Nma nma nma nma Nma nma chimo emela Agama turu chimo o Nma nma nma nma Nma nma Chimoo emela
If you leave us in this condition Wahala go dey If you leave us in this situation E fe e mebi o Some people no get place to sleep Some people no get food to chop o Mama dey watch pickin dey die Things are getting out of hand Amara gi o kanayo All we need is your grace Bia nu o bi a yere ayin aka o E fe ne mebi o
Odogwu akataka (nma nma nma nma) Oye n meri (nma nma nma nma) Chimo Nma nma chimo imela ?? ?? Agama turu chimo (nma nma nma nma Tu o ya o (nma nma nma nma ?? Nma nma chimo imela A ga ma turu chimo o (nma nma nma nma) Nma nma chimo imela
Oloro ihe lori enhi Eze ebube mo Amama amasi a masi Ogwu oria mu o A si na obugi Jevovah Oye na chenche na che na nkiti E we zuga gi nu Jevovah Doctor na gwo na nkiti Elbele chuckwu kanayo Kanayo kanayo Aru isike kanayo Kanayo kanayo Amara chukwu kanayo Ni ime onodua
Aga ma turu gi Nma nma nma nma Nma nma Chimoo emela Agama turu chimo Nma nma nma nma Nma nma chimo emela Agama turu chimo o Nma nma nma nma Nma nma Chimoo emela
Cheta ze e nkwerre Okwi isi agwo a ga gu bu mo Cheta ze ?? Okwi si ? Okwi si na oria a ga tu mo Isi owuike a bu gi matter mo Oye ebube o ??
Aga ma turu chimo Nma nma nma nma Nma nma Chimoo emela Aga ma turu ya Nma nma nma nma Nma nma chimo emela
Video
Flavour (feat. PC Lapez) - Kanayo
Meaning & Inspiration
I sit here at the kitchen table, the light from the window catching the veins in my hands. They’re mapped with the work of forty years—scars from tools, callouses from the garden, and the soft, frayed edges of a Bible that’s seen more nights than I care to count. When I put on this track by Flavour and PC Lapez, I’m not looking for a beat to dance to. I’m looking for something that can handle the weight of a heavy chest.
"Ebere chukwu kanayo"—they sing about seeking God’s mercy. When you’re young, mercy sounds like a gentle breeze. You think it’s just a nice thing to have, a little extra cushion. But when the knees start to creak and the world seems to be spiraling into a chaos you can’t fix, mercy becomes the only thing holding the floorboards of your life together. It isn’t a request; it’s a lifeline. It’s the desperate, breathless reaching of a drowning man who finally stops fighting the current and just reaches for the Hand.
There’s a line in there that caught me off guard: "If you leave us in this condition, wahala go dey."
It’s bold, isn't it? It sounds like Jacob wrestling with the Angel by the Jabbok. You don't talk like that when you're just playing church. You talk like that when you’ve looked at your bank account, looked at your health, and looked at the way the world treats the vulnerable—those who have no bed to sleep in, no food to eat—and you realize that without God’s direct intervention, the whole thing falls apart. It’s an honest, guttural admission of our total dependency. Scripture says in 2 Corinthians 12:9 that His strength is made perfect in weakness, but we’re usually too proud to admit we’re weak until the lights go out.
Sometimes I worry these songs are just melodies for the bright, sunny mornings. But when the silence in the house gets loud, and the memories of friends who have already crossed over start to crowd the room, I find myself circling back to that simple refrain: "Nma nma chimo imela." Thank you, my God.
It’s not a tidy theology. It doesn't solve the "wahala"—the trouble—that the song describes. The sickness, the hunger, the feeling that things are slipping out of hand—those don't evaporate just because the music is playing. But there’s a stubbornness in the rhythm. It’s an act of defiance against despair. You acknowledge the ruin, you admit the trouble, and yet, you still choose to offer thanks.
I’m still trying to learn that, even after all these years. It’s easy to praise when you’re standing on the mountaintop. It’s a different kind of iron that forms in the soul when you’re standing in the valley, looking up at the sky, and saying, "I see the mess, and I’m terrified, but I’m still naming Your goodness." I’m not sure if I’ve mastered it yet, but I’m still listening.