There are things one cannot fully explain. Things the eyes have seen but language can't wrap itself around.
How do I speak of a grace that found me hanging, like the thief, on the edge of judgment, yet called me kin? How do I thank the One who did not wait for my hands to be clean before setting me at His table?
I am not here because I deserve to be. No.
I brought no lamb, no sacrifice. No spotless record. Yet mercy walked in, uninvited but not unwelcome, and stood between me and the wrath I had earned.
I think often of the thief on the cross, suspended between guilt and grace. He had nothing to offer, no plea polished enough for mercy. Yet, grace spoke for him.
I’m not so different.
The song I’m sharing, “Agba o”, was born from that quiet place of realization. You fully grasp just how undeserving you are, yet how deeply loved you’ve been. It is a hymn of humility, a cry of wonder and a melody of thanks.
“Agba o” is an Igala phrase I learnt in 2008 in the Nigerian Confluence City. I fell in love with the language and the people. Still amazes me how a single phrase could carry multiple meanings: Hello. Sorry. Thank you.
In this song, and in this moment, "Agba o" is my thank you - to the God who saw me at my worst and still called me worthy.
Thank You for the quiet rescues.
Thank You for provision before I even knew there was lack.
Thank You for forgiveness that silenced every accusation.
Thank You for carrying my family - keeping us from harm, seen and unseen.
This is not just a song.
It is a confession.
A remembrance.
A surrender.
A thank you in every language my soul can speak.
So if you’ve ever felt unworthy, but grace found you anyway, this is for you too.
“Eyi ke s’eyi gbe...”
This thing You’ve done for me…
Agba o.
Kree8 Media
A Song. A Confession. A Thank You.
There are things one cannot fully explain. Things the eyes have seen but language can't wrap itself around.
How do I speak of a grace that found me hanging, like the thief, on the edge of judgment, yet called me kin? How do I thank the One who did not wait for my hands to be clean before setting me at His table?
I am not here because I deserve to be. No.
I brought no lamb, no sacrifice. No spotless record. Yet mercy walked in, uninvited but not unwelcome, and stood between me and the wrath I had earned.
I think often of the thief on the cross, suspended between guilt and grace. He had nothing to offer, no plea polished enough for mercy. Yet, grace spoke for him.
I’m not so different.
The song I’m sharing, “Agba o”, was born from that quiet place of realization. You fully grasp just how undeserving you are, yet how deeply loved you’ve been. It is a hymn of humility, a cry of wonder and a melody of thanks.
“Agba o” is an Igala phrase I learnt in 2008 in the Nigerian Confluence City. I fell in love with the language and the people. Still amazes me how a single phrase could carry multiple meanings: Hello. Sorry. Thank you.
In this song, and in this moment, "Agba o" is my thank you - to the God who saw me at my worst and still called me worthy.
Thank You for the quiet rescues.
Thank You for provision before I even knew there was lack.
Thank You for forgiveness that silenced every accusation.
Thank You for carrying my family - keeping us from harm, seen and unseen.
This is not just a song.
It is a confession.
A remembrance.
A surrender.
A thank you in every language my soul can speak.
So if you’ve ever felt unworthy, but grace found you anyway, this is for you too.
“Eyi ke s’eyi gbe...”
This thing You’ve done for me…
Agba o.
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