Winner 2025
POEM
🏆 Winner — 1st Place The ZODML Poetry Prize 2025 · Seeds of Tomorrow
Harvest Never Reach
Written in Pidgin English · Ogoke Nzubechukwu Victoria
About the Poet
NameOgoke Nzubechukwu Victoria
InstitutionYaba College of Technology (YABATECH)
CourseJournalism & Media Studies
DepartmentDepartment of Mass Communication
GenderFemale
Prize₦500,000
The Poem — Pidgin English
Harvest Never Reach
Written in Nigerian Pidgin English
E get days wey I go stand for the back of window..
The window wey dey open reach dat small veranda,
I go dey watch as the sun dey sink
like something wey don tire, but e still wan try dey push.
Na der be my altar.
I no dey kneel, but I dey pray.
I no too shout..
But I talk am make God fit hear the load wey I no name.
I tell God,
"I wan be the one wey go change dis story."
Make I grow tall pass where we dey now.
Make I build name wey my papa and mama go fit rest inside.
Our house no be sorrow house oo,
But better and wahala dey live like neighbours.
E get days wey rice no go get stew,
and days wey the pot go surprise us with many many.
We dey laugh. We dey wait. We dey survive.
School just be like plastic chair for rainy day;
e dey shake like sey e no get strength, and e cold,
but e still better to use sidan when every other thing soak and wet,
than to stand under rain..
And I dey dream.
I dey dream say I go carry my people up like yam wey them uproot.
I dey dream of more things I go do with my hands,
Wey go pass to dey clap for people wey don make am.
But dream no dey clear road.
Plenty times I try, e no work and I close mouth.
I carry plans like harvest wey rot for farm..
e sweet for eye, but e no enter plate.
Sometimes, for night, I go ask myself,
"Dem go live to eat the fruit wey I dey grow?"
Still, I dey plant.
I dey plant for ground wey don crack,
for inside seasons wey no sure say rain go fall,
with hands wey no dey wait for 'well done' again.
Dem say "river wey forget e source go dry."
So I carry my own anywhere I go; my mama sweat and prayer, for my chest,
my papa wrinkled hands, for my mind.
Na dem dey push me.
I no be the harvest.
Not yet.
But I dey come small small.
And I no dey alone,
we many wey dey dis same soil,
we dey dig with hope, we dey build with bones,
we no go die when our dreams never unfold.
Na we be the seeds;
we no loud, we no dey perfect,
but we dey grow. And we dey come.
And tomorrow better ready for us.
English Translation
Translated by the poet
Not Yet the Harvest
There were days I stood behind the window..
the one that opens to our narrow balcony,
watching the sun sink
like something tired, but still trying.
That was my altar.
I didn't kneel, but I prayed.
Not loudly;
just enough for God to hear the weight I didn't know how to name.
I told Him,
"Let me be the one who breaks the cycle."
Let me grow taller than where we've been.
Let me build a name my parents can rest inside.
Ours wasn't a house of sorrow,
but joy and struggle lived as neighbours.
There were days of rice without stew
and days when the pot surprised us with more.
We laughed. We waited. We survived.
School was a plastic chair in the rain; wobbly, cold,
still something to sit on
when everything else was wet.
And still I dreamed.
Dreamed of lifting my people like yam from the earth,
of doing more than clapping for those who made it.
But dreaming does not clear the path.
I've tried and failed in silence.
Carried plans like harvests that rotted in the field—
full of promise, but never touched a plate.
And some nights I ask,
"Will they live to see the fruit of me?"
Still, I plant.
I plant in broken ground,
in seasons that don't promise rain,
with hands that no longer wait for applause.
They say "a river that forgets its source will run dry."
So I carry mine with me—
my mother's sacrifices folded into my chest,
my father's aging hands a reason not to stop.
I am not the harvest.
Not yet.
But I am becoming.
And there are many like me,
scattered across this soil,
digging with hope, building with bones,
refusing to die with their dreams still folded.
We are the seeds—
not loud,
not perfect,
but alive.
And coming.
And tomorrow had better be ready.