Pompi - Shimwilili Lyrics
Lyrics
Here are the lyrics for the song "Shimwilili" by Pompi (featuring Tasha Nyambe & Voh). The song includes sections in both English and Bemba (a language spoken in Zambia).
Lyrics
(Chorus) Your throne is mercy, And I am thirsty For living waters For living waters
(Verse 1) It’s grace not burdens, Your will is saving Your sons and daughters, Your sons and daughters
(Refrain) Tata eh, Nde lumbanye nshina lyenu Tata eh, Shimwilili Tata eh, Nde lumbanye nshina lyenu Tata eh, Shimwilili
(Verse 2) Even in the darkest times, Your light’s living in me Permanent and not sometimes, Now we’re laying down these crowns We have before Your throne, Confident we realize
(Bridge) Nshita yakwa Lesa (God’s time) Te nshita ya munthu (Is not man's time) Nshita yakwa Lesa (God’s time) Te nshita ya munthu (Is not man's time) Alpha, Omega Te nshita ya munthu (Is not man's time) Alpha, Omega We’re here to surrender
(Outro) No, I don’t – no, I don’t walk alone Na mulya mu nshila ya mpepo No, I don’t – no, I don’t walk alone Na mulya mu nshila ya mpepo
Translations for the Bemba sections:
- Tata eh: Father (used as a respectful/honorific address).
- Nde lumbanye nshina lyenu: I am praising Your name.
- Shimwilili: A divine title often used to mean "Eternal/Infinite God" or "The One who is forever."
- Nshita yakwa Lesa: God’s time.
- Te nshita ya munthu: Not man’s time.
- Na mulya mu nshila ya mpepo: And I am walking in the path of the Spirit.
Video
Pompi - Shimwilili (Official Music Video) Ft Tasha Nyambe & VOH
Meaning & Inspiration
"Your throne is mercy."
In many corners of modern hymnody, we talk about the throne of God as a place of judgment, a seat of white-hot holiness that requires us to shrink back. And while the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, Pompi pivots here toward a truth that is often neglected in favor of legalistic anxieties: the throne is the seat of the propitiation. When the writer tells us the throne is mercy, he isn't suggesting God has abandoned His justice. Rather, he is pointing toward the finished work of the Cross. Hebrews 4:16 beckons us to approach the throne of grace, and this lyric acts as a theological anchor for the weary listener. It stops the frantic effort to earn standing and forces the recognition that our only claim to be there is the blood of the Lamb. It’s not "fluffy"—it is the structural integrity of our salvation.
Then, there is the Bemba title, Shimwilili—the Eternal One.
There is a restlessness in the human heart that finds no cure in the temporal. Pompi, Tasha Nyambe, and VOH contrast this with the bridge: “Nshita yakwa Lesa / Te nshita ya munthu.” God’s time is not man’s time. We are a people obsessed with the immediate, the measurable, and the urgent. We want the miracle on our clock. But the character of the Eternal One stands in direct opposition to our frantic, linear anxiety.
When you acknowledge Him as Shimwilili, you are admitting that your current crisis is a small dot on an infinite timeline. It’s an act of intellectual and spiritual humility. To say "You are the Eternal One" is to say "My current suffering is not the final word." It is a rejection of the god of convenience.
Yet, I find myself lingering on the outro: “Na mulya mu nshila ya mpepo”—walking in the path of the Spirit. It is one thing to sing about the sovereignty of God’s time; it is quite another to endure the actual, grinding pace of it. Do we really mean it? Or are we just looking for a momentary reprieve from the waiting?
If the throne is truly mercy, then the waiting isn't a punishment. It’s a stripping away of our self-reliance. Pompi hits on a crucial tension here: we claim to walk in the Spirit, yet we panic when the Spirit leads us into a season that doesn’t align with our personal expectations. We want the Shimwilili to be our valet, appearing on command. But if He is the Eternal One, He is not bound to our deadlines.
This song functions as a recalibration. It reminds us that our primary identity is not found in our accomplishments or our "seasons" of success, but in our standing before a God who is both the Judge and the Mercy Seat. It’s a cold drink of water for those of us who have spent too long trying to solve the riddle of our own lives. We aren't here to manage our existence; we are here to be held by the One for whom time is not a limitation, but a canvas. The doctrine is sound, but the application remains a daily, difficult surrender.