The Fall: The New Nigga Nation
While all eyes were focused on the niggaz at the top, to few pulled the curtain all the way back on the niggaz at the bottom. By the time public housing escapees like Jay-Z were getting out of the game with too many stacks to count, he and other Pied Pipers of the Gangsta lifestyle had created a nation within a nation. It was a nation of Niggaz and no young, gifted and Black people would dare live there.
Like any nation, this new nation of Niggaz even had sovereignty. At the peak of the Thug Wars, even the police were nervous about entering certain neighborhoods, blocks and buildings without rolling with overwhelming force. Save for a few buy and bust operations or making use of catch and release tactics, smaller departments were satisfied with containing the problem in The Hood. As long as the violence didn’t spillover into White communities, the cops didn’t bother wasting the resources.
Any civilian that happened to find themselves at or near a hotspot in The Hood, were either lost or there looking for the rock. If a cop asked why you were in “The Hood” when you didn’t live in the area, it was impossible to answer that question without incriminating yourself. If you valued life, wallet, watch, car, car stereo or anything else, you kept your ass out of places like this.
Created by accident, by the times or by some devious social design, this new Nigga Nation had developed a culture, a language, a look, an attitude and even heroes. The nation also had a uniform and two competing armies to wear them. One Red and one Blue. Recruited as early as elementary school, Thuglets joined by the tens of thousands.
Since the public school system was barely preparing African-American males for minimum wage jobs, many finished their educations in juvenile halls and jails across the country. By the time they were released into the world, most had been tagged with as many felonies as gang tattoos. With a record that will follow them for life, there was nothing else to do but hang with the gang and play the game.
After a few more stints behind bars, the monosyllabic illiterate was back on the street slinging rock, swinging cock and making as many babies as he was making money. Some of these two time losers, now hardened criminals with no moral compass, no compassion and no regard for human life, lived for one thing and one thing only and that was all about the Benjamin’s.
When you have so many losers competing for so much money, it don’t take genious to realize violence would play a major role in the lives of those who still cared. African America others started losing sons everyday to gun violence. There were so many shootings many police departments stopped recording the statistics. By some counts, more African America males were killed and crippled during the Thug wars, than U.S. soldiers were killed and wounded in Iraq and Afghanistan combined.
The only thing that could have made things worse, was African American community and religious leaders making the fatal mistake of demanding police protection. Without understanding what that police protection would look like or the collateral damage it would cause, scared, fed up and bewildered residents invited a scourge of police oppression they’d live to regret to this very day.