Letter to Dr. King..

1 Black Alley

Duduland DU 11111

01152007.

Dear Martin,
What is going on, how your side. It's been a while since we last communicated, I hope all is well. Anyway, there is an African adage ( I know you do not know anything about this, but woreva) that says no news, is good news. I am writing to specifically communicate the state of affairs over here to you. So that you will have the oppourtunity to hear with with your korkoro ears from one angry black man.
This is the problem, the civil liberties that you and the NAACP people fought for is being misused and bastardizes left, right and center. Sometimes I begin to wonder if these our people are worth dying for like you did. Imagine, Ray-ray and Shaquanda is still leaving in projects, still making use of food stamp and blatantly refuse formal education. The inner city kids are still trapped in the hood with no options of getting out. Gun-fights and jail times have become badges of honor worn with pride by our city youths. Things are even worse now because the drug dealers and the pimps have crossed over to mainstrean televeision. Calling each other the N-word has become a thing of pride for our children.



As if this is not enough Aunt May is still on Section 8 housing assistance, with no hope of getting out. Infact her grand-daughter just had twin boys for some other guy that is AWOL. The little progress we experienced with the equal oppourtunity program has been eroded, right now we are are confused about the equal oppourtunity program. Was it a gift or a curse?
To make matters worse, the few black men and women that have made it out of the hood (thats what we call the slums now) are running for dear life and they have threatened to create a separate race called oreos, which is neither white nor black. A few black men, in the Arts, hip-hop to be precise(do not crack your head because there is no way I can explain what hip hop is, to you) have made some good money and are now CEO's of their various comapanies, but the problem with these is that every little child has refused to go to school and is now hanging out on street street corners dropping a rhyme or honing his stepping skills. Hip-hop gift or curse? We do not know.
To cut a long story short, Martin, Martin, Martin, how many times did I call you If you are reading this, pray and pray hard for your children for they have lost track of their purpose on earth, pray that they regain conscious and possess the 30 acres and mules that is rightfully theirs.
Happy Birthday.

Sincerely Yours
One that is still looking out for your legacy
Omodudu..