Judikay - Song of Angels (Ndi Mo Zi) Lyrics
Lyrics
Ndimozi binigwe anasi halleluyah Anasi halleluyah Jehovah omeliwo, omeliwo Ndimozi binigwe anasi halleluyah Anasi halleluyah Jehovah omeliwo
Glory, Honour, Power To the one who reigns forever Amen, amen Blessings and the praise To the lamb of God forever Amen Glory, Honour, Power To the one who reigns forever Amen amen Blessings and the praise To the Lamb of God forever, amen
Ndimozi binigwe anasi halleluyah Anasi halleluyah Jehovah omeliwo, omeliwo Ndimozi binigwe anasi halleluyah Anasi halleluyah Jehovah omeliwo
Ndimozi binigwe anasi halleluyah Anasi halleluyah Jehovah omeliwo, omeliwo Ndimozi binigwe anasi halleluyah Anasi halleluyah Jehovah omeliwo
Why won’t shout Your praise Who won’t serve a father like You Ojuluenigwejuwa, juwa oh Why won’t I jump and shout Who won’t love a father like you oh Oyoyo chimoma , chimoma chimoma chimoma
Why won’t I shout your praise Who won’t serve a father like You Oyoyo oyoyo , chim chim chimo Hey ! Why won’t I sing for joy oh Who won’t love a father like you Reign ! King Jesus, reign. Agu agu agu
Ndimozi binigwe, ndimozi benenigwe Anasi halleluyah, agunecheobodo. Omelimo Ndimozi binigwe anasi halleluyah Anakwu halleluyah Jehovah omeliwo
And so, miracles breakout Now in the name of Jesus Every sickness, we cast you out Barreness , out now Every form of oppression, let loose We decree that men begin to burn for Jesus Cause he has prevailed You have prevailed
Video
Judikay - Song Of Angels (Ndi Mo Zi) [Official Video]
Meaning & Inspiration
I’m leaning against the back wall of the sanctuary, arms folded tight, watching the lights pulse. Judikay is hitting the notes, the energy is undeniable, and the room is vibrating with that "Jehovah omeliwo" chant. It’s loud. It’s infectious. But when the music stops and the reverb fades, I’m left wondering what happens when the adrenaline wears off.
"Why won't I shout your praise? Who won't serve a father like You?"
It’s a catchy line, rhythmic and defiant. But if I’m being honest, I can think of a dozen reasons why someone wouldn't shout. I’ve sat in rooms where the silence is heavy enough to crush your ribs. I’ve heard the frantic prayers of someone standing in a hospital hallway at 3:00 a.m. while the monitors blip, and the "Father" they’re serving feels more like a ghost than a present help. When you’ve just been handed a pink slip or you’re staring at a stack of bills that won't go away, "Why won't I shout" feels less like a rhetorical question and more like an indictment. It’s easy to sing about praise when the momentum is behind you, but what about when the momentum is gone?
The lyrics lean into the victory—Jehovah omeliwo, "God has done it." It sounds great when you’re standing in a crowd, fueled by collective excitement. But grace isn’t just a victory lap. If we only claim God when He’s "done it," what are we supposed to do when He hasn’t? When the sickness doesn't lift, or the oppression remains, does the praise have any teeth left?
There’s a tension here that we usually skip over. Habakkuk 3:17-18 talks about the fig tree not budding and the fields yielding no food—the absolute worst-case scenario—and then says, "Yet I will rejoice in the Lord." That’s not a shout born of hype; that’s a shout born of grit. That’s a shout that has survived the funeral and the empty bank account.
Judikay brings a lot of fire to Man of Galilee, and there’s a place for that celebration. But I get nervous when we treat God like a vending machine for miracles—"miracles breakout / now in the name of Jesus." We love the triumph, but we’re terrible at waiting in the dark. If we can't find a way to honor the King when He isn't "doing it" in the way we want, then our praise is just a transaction.
I want a faith that can survive the quiet house, not just the loud room. I want to know that "Jehovah omeliwo" still matters even when the outcome looks like a disaster. Otherwise, this is just another song for the good times, and I’ve seen enough bad times to know that cheap grace doesn’t hold up when the walls start closing in. I’m still standing here, listening. I’m just not sure the shout is enough.