Meet The Winners of The Bridgette James Poetry Competition
Janine Milne
The Etymology of Homesickness
Overall Winner,
The Annual Bridgette James Poetry Competition, 2026
Janine Milne
A Literature and Creative Writing graduate from University of South Africa/UNISA. Janine Milne's poetry has appeared in Sol Plaatje European Poetry Award anthologies and Stanzas. She won the 2026 Bridgette James Poetry Competition as well as the 2017 MacGregor Poetry Prize. She has published short fiction in Short Sharp Stories, Bloody Parchment, and Lemonwood Quarterly.
Once, they knew homesickness that bloody fist of longing— could kill you.
https://www.ellaspoems.com/#winner-janine-milne
Damilola Oyedeji
[w]hat is the naming of a body
set outside the margin?
-'Margins'
Margins by Damilola Oyedeji
i. outside the main body
ii. outside the limit
iii. a measure or degree of difference
~ Meriam Webster Dictionary
***
Everything outside my body is excessive.
Everything on and inside it, too. The multiplex
of my eyebrows. The timbre of my voice
escaping their lispy lip doors. The tilt
of my belly is more than a tilt. It’s the moon,
round, but it weighs more than a circle. I’m a circle
of desires my body will not permit. The first doctor
I see tells me, you will be fine if you do not grow
fat. Shamefaced before a mirror, I pinch the skin
of my belly to let out the air. Hissing back
at me are strings of cysts, not air. Hissing back
is my sister’s voice note, you need to lose weight.
Hissing back are the blue stories of uterine bodies
in my lineage. Pink fibroids linger in my aunt’s grave.
One lonely breast in my step-grandmother’s.
Everything inside me is blue, is excessive,
is blue, for what is the naming of a body
set outside the margin?
When the radiologist slips an IV into my left
cubital vein, he thrusts a ball into my right palm
and says, squeeze this if it starts to hurt.
I play guess-what with the MRI machine
as it tries to uncover what is excessive inside me:
a triple beep for a warning, an unending screech
means terror, the soft breathe in-hold your breath-
breathe out command is a lullabic dirge. I sway
into a small dream in which I’m standing outside
a threshold. It’s empty inside because no one
is normal. Everyone is only acting. Every voice
I hear is blue and outside the margin. Every body,
blue and outside, too. Hands, blue from hiding
their blue bodies. Mouths, blue from biting
others blue. I dig my right fingers
into the squeeze ball. It hurts.
It blues. Every body hurts.
Every body is blue.
Bio
Runner-up Damilola Oyedeji is a Nigerian poet, essayist, and literary critic. Her work explores intersectional discourses of Black bodies experiences. Damilola is the author of the forthcoming chapbook Blue Scapes, with Thirty West Publishing House, PA.
A Best of the Net nominee, as well as recipient of the 2026 William Walker Excellence in Critical Writing Award, the 2025 Robert Henigan Critical Essay Award, and the C.H. Gelin Graduate Fellowship Award, her works have appeared in LLIDS Journal, Lolwe, Orange Blossom Review, The Shallow Tales Review, Brittle Paper, The Nigeria Review, Talon Review, Belfast Review, Poetry Journal, the Sprinng Writing Fellowship 2023 Anthology, and elsewhere.
A past fellow of the Sprinng Writing Fellowship herself, Damilola mentors emerging writers in creative nonfiction through the Sprinng Writing Fellowship. She is a PhD student in Creative Writing at Texas Tech University and holds a master’s degree in English from Missouri State University.
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Yuwinn A. Kraukamp
'But I know all the white words: fuck
Fuckup. Freakshow. Failure.'
'Raw/Rou'
Raw/Rou by Yuwinn A. Kraukamp
Something is missing from my language. A word torn from my throat. A phrase confiscated
from my history
a sound or a sacred name
scythed from my mother tongue
as I searched for this pre-colonial vernacular (taal)
for this unvoiced veritas between you and me,
I Googled the words you threw at me on the day you left. You said I speak too white. Not the real
raw Afrikaans our people were born with
You said my language is as soulless as my identity
my identity as pale as my complexion
So I traced your words back to their linguistic roots
back to the indigenous speech we spoke without sound
I reopened words like wounds we could’ve unsaid. I relived conversations we could have survived
And in each one, we’re speaking two different languages
Two voices, reciting two different poems
one hungry mouth to swallow the corpse
of every dead dialect we failed to keep alive.
I carried the words you carved into me on the day you left, into every room like scars on my skin
Like something raw
And did you know that in Afrikaans rawness (rou)
has two different meanings: blood-red
cut open, uncooked meat
But it also means grief. It means mourning. The sort of loss you suffer that’s so deep, so unending
it becomes a second language you instantly
know how to speak
when a mother loses a son, then the word raw
is instantly fixed to her name: roumoeder
rawmother: blood-red, cut open
Her rawness comes to life in every vocabulary. Every memory voiced with salt—a primal language
we all learn to speak.
I still struggle to spell God’s true name without autocorrection. I’m still missing something, I know
I’m still not fluent in the English language
But I know all the white words: fuck
Fuckup. Freakshow. Failure
I feel every word changing shape inside my mouth
every time I say them out loud: reminiscence turns into regret. Faithfulness turns into fear
eyes turn into tongues, sight turns into voice
our language turns into an emergency line
with no answer, no service
yet still I speak; honestly and painfully, in your tongue and mine. As if you would ever speak back.
Bio
Yuwinn A. Kraukamp— who was placed third — is a bilingual writer from the coastal corner of Cape Agulhas, South-Africa. He’s a natural born creative, a former English— and Communications major at the university of the Western Cape, and a patron (saint) of everything that’s artistically unique and beautifully weird in this world. Yuwinn has worked as a freelance columnist for Network 24, and a freelance journalist for The Southern Post Newspaper since 2022. In 2024 he was the third-place winner of the Diana Ferrus poetry prize, and in 2026 he was the first-place winner of the Njabulo S. Ndebele-themed ‘Rediscovering the Ordinary’ poetry competition.
Chiamaka Ogiji
What I do remember is running from bullies on horseback,
or hearing the engine roar from their motorcycles.
-‘Horseback’ 2026, by Ethan Bramwell
About
Tshegofatjo Makhafola
Tshegofatjo Makhafola is a South African poet, writer, and award-winning spoken word artist based in Johannesburg. Known for exploring themes of Blackness and queerness, he won the Poetry Africa and Windybrow slam in 2023. His work appears in publications such as New Contrast, Poetry Potion, and bath magg, often highlighting deep, emotive storytelling.
Queer
i am the ghost of my father’s pride.
the scum of his testicles.
a mirror distorting his reflection.
a wish refusing to hatch into a man on his terms.
his prayer floating below god’s ears.
i am the fig tree he curses. the fruitless. an apple far from a tree.
i am what his eyelids turn to shovels to bury with every blink
when he is drunk,
i am dead to him.
i am the tithe he delivers to church every sabbath.
i am last night's memory stuck between the pastor's teeth.
i am his after nine o'clock secret he gargles with repentance.
a corinthians six verse nine transgression.
his six nine freak and a sputum he ejects before the gospel.
too sinful for the sermon, too sweet for the sermoner.
i am a sin indigestible in the belly of a temple.
i am the puke of this place.
a prayer miscarried from my father’s lips.
i am what’s hidden in my mother’s mouth.
what she whispers to god.
what holds her knees hostage to the floor.
i am the kite tied to her umbilical cord
when my father is a hurricane,
i am pulling away and paining her.
i am what turns her into a double pan scale on a dining table
with marriage and her love for me on opposite sides.
i am the shame she piggybacks and what her humming amors
when a hallelujah stretches like a bow from my father’s lips.
every sabbath,
i am the dart opposite to the pulpit.
i am the after-church murmuring.
a rumour bulging inside my mother’s throat.
i am her silence.
[1] Glossary
The Annual Bridgette James Poetry Competition:
Random Order of Shortlisted Entries 2026
-
BR804257: The Monster Home Made by Mosimiloluwa Dorcas Kupoluyi - Nigeria
-
BR 360184: Ancestry and Borders by Ojo Olumide Emmanuel - Nigeria
-
BR 587470: Buy a casket for Dorcas (Ezenwa-Ohaeto Prize) by Chiamaka Ogiji - Nigeria
-
BR 634572: The creature’s lament (Young Person Category) by Olivia Caldeira - South Africa
-
BR 842519: The Free Man by Chidebelu Emmanuel Nnazoba - Nigeria
-
EB 856421: The Girl Who Asked for a Pen by Halima Raji - Nigeria
-
BR 286741: Horseback by Ethan Bramwell - South Africa
-
BR175981: Margins by Damilola Oyedeji - Nigerian Diaspora
-
BR 638241: Onye Ọbịa (Ezenwa-Ohaeto Prize + YP Category) by Bill Nwonwu - Nigeria
-
BR 238570: Raw/Rou by Yuwinn A. Kraukamp - South Africa
-
BR 804693: Spectator at the Border of Massacre by Excel Chinagorom Michael- Nigeria
-
BR13804: Stranger Danger by Edinam Denoo - Ghana
-
BR 18458: The Etymology of Homesickness by Janine Milne - South Africa
-
BR 824690: The priest's litany by Alabi Miracle Mezabo - Nigeria
-
BR 716845: What privilege by Brett Anderson - South Africa
Chinua Ezenwa-Ohaeto - Head Judge, 2026
The following contestants were placed & won a prize in 2026
1st Entry number BR 18458: 'The Etymology of Homesickness' matched to Janine Milne (South Africa) $100 USD
2nd Entry number BR 175981: 'Margins' matched to Damilola Oyedeji (Nigerian diaspora) (Bridgette James's Favourite) $40 USD
3rd Entry number BR238570: 'Raw/Rou' matched to Yuwinn A. Kraukamp (South Africa) $15 USD
4th Entry number EB 856421: 'The Girl Who Asked for a Pen' matched to Halima Raji (Nigeria) $10 USD
5th Entry number BR13804: 'Stranger Danger' matched to Denoo Edinam (Ghana) $10 USD
6th Entry number BR804257: 'The Monster Home Made' matched to Mosimiloluwa Dorcas Kupoluyi (Nigeria) $10 USD
7th Entry number BR 587470: 'Buy a Casket for Dorcas' matched to Chiamaka Ogiji – Winner of The Ezenwa-Ohaeto Prize $20 USD
8th Entry number BR 634572: The Creature’s Lament matched to 15-year-old Oliva Caldeira (South Africa) Youngest Shortlisted Contestant $10 USD
9th Entry number BR 286741: 'Horseback' matched to Ethan Branwell (south Africa) $10 USD
10th Entry number BR 638241: 'Onye Ọbịa' matched to Bill Nwonwu - The Ezenwa-Ohaeto Prize - Runner up $10 USD
The Following Poems Were Placed, Commended or Won a Special Prize in May 2025
Entry 770822 - 'Big Lights Thunder' Matched to runner-up, Chukwuebuka Freedom Onyishi -$10 USD + Best Metaphorical Poem - $5
Entry 58622 - 'All of it' Matched to Solomon Hamza - $10 USD
Entry 50870 - 'Prayer' Matched to winner Osahon Oka - My Favourite Poem: $20 USD + $40 USD
Entry 46770 – 'The Path I Learned “Wilt”'Matched to Egharevba Terry - Judges' Favourite Piece- $10 USD
Entry 12977 – 'Sigh' Matched to Clement Abayomi - Third Place- $10 USD
Entry 30466 - 'House of Water' Matched to Daniel Jacinth - Fourth Place - $10 USD
Youngest Shortlisted Contestant - Fifteen-year-old Utaara Tjozongoro - $10 USD
About the Competition - Rules
• Submitters MUST send in an original piece of work in a plain FONT. (I do run checks for plagiarism and AI-generated content on all selected poems. Contestants have previously been disqualified for submitting an already published or AI-generated piece.
All poems must be in English. You are reminded to proofread for spelling and grammar.
Orthographically challenged work will not be processed by the Admin or Reading Panel.
• All submissions must be in a Word.doc format please.
• You MUST enter under your real name. If using a pseudonym you MUST disclose your real identity to competition organisers.
• The competition is free to enter.
• Poems should be on the theme OUTSIDER, written in the first-person narrative.
• Poems must not exceed forty lines.
• Your work is accepted on the basis that this will be its first publication in Penned in Rage, Literary Journal, on my Social Media pages or this website.
• Poems cannot have been broadcast on any regional, national or online TV station or via any radio platform.
• Poems cannot have won any other competition.
• Poems must be written in English, but you can include phrases in your mother tongue or another language.
• You MUST NOT enter a poem written by more than one author
• Entries will be accepted from sub-Saharan Africa or its diaspora ONLY. You MUST indicate country you are submitting from.
• Rejected competition entries are deleted. Please ensure you keep a record of all poems entered and send copies only.
• Entries will NOT be accepted any other way, except via email address or online. All emailed or online entries must be received by midnight BST on Thursday 30th APRIL 2026. Late online entries will not be accepted under any circumstances.
• The head judge's decisions are final, and no correspondence will be entered into concerning his decisions.
• Due to the large number of entrants, I am unable to respond individually to submissions.
Rules: winners
By entering this competition, entrants agree that their poems and data may be used by Ella’s Poems, including for educational purposes as material for Bridgette’s Writing School, Facebook.
Due to the high number of submissions, only successful entrants will be notified. Details of the full winners list will be announced publicly on www.ellaspoems.com on May 30th 2026.
The winners will be paid via Western Union ONLY.
Photographs of winners will be displayed on www.ellaspeoms.com.
The copyright of each poem remains with the author. However, by entering the competition, authors of the winning poems grant Ella’s Poems the right to publish and/or broadcast their poem, and to do this before anyone else.
Authors of the winning poems will grant Ella’s Poems irrevocable, non-exclusive licence to republish the work in perpetuity, including (but not limited to): A winners’ anthology (to be published on Amazon; E-copies of which will be circulated FREE OF CHARGE)
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