"Revoked"

"Revoked"

Is This a Possibility Your Ready For?

Setting: Brooklyn, New York – Summer, 2026 
Malik Johnson, 35, African-American, works as a night-shift security guard. 
Tanya Johnson, 34, African-American, public school teacher. 
Jordan (9) and Ava (6), their children.

 
The aroma of baked chicken, rice, and green beans filled the apartment as the Johnson family settled in for dinner. Malik reached for the hot sauce, smiling across the table at Tanya. The children, Jordan and Ava, were already picking through their plates, laughing at a silly joke from earlier that day. It was a rare evening, everyone home at once, peaceful. Then—a thunderous knock.

 
Malik rose, cautious. Tanya’s expression mirrored his concern. Through the peephole, he spotted men in navy jackets with ICE in stark white letters. "Why would ICE be here?" he muttered. He opened the door. "Mr. Malik Johnson?"  "Yes?"

"Under Executive Order 2026-14, those identifying as 'African-American' are now being detained for reclassification under new federal identity protocols. The legal designation 'African-American' is no longer recognized as a national descent. You and your family must come with us."

 
"You’ve got to be kidding," Tanya said, stepping into view. "We were born here. We pay taxes. I teach American History."

 
"Ma’am, those identifying with non-national designations, like Black, Colored, Negro, or African-American—have been under review. None of these names is tied to a recognized nation-state or sovereign descent. As such, those individuals have been living under granted privileges, not constitutional rights."

 
Malik’s voice shook. "You mean to tell me our whole lives are being erased? Our rights as citizens revoked—just like that?"

 
The agent replied, "No other group of people in this nation has had so many different, non-national identities. Negro. Colored. Black. African-American. These are social classifications, not nationalities. And unlike national citizens, you’ve been granted privileges—like voting—that can be revoked."

 
Tanya looked at Malik, her eyes glossing with realization. "Maybe if we had joined the Moorish Science Temple of America–1928, we would’ve been recognized as Moorish American Moslems."

 
One of the agents nodded. "Yes. From what we’re told, they’re overwhelmed. African-Americans all over the country are trying to claim their nationality as Moorish American Moslems through them now. But most didn’t take it seriously until it was too late."

 
Malik shook his head. "The Dred Scott Decision said we had no rights that a white man was bound to respect. And now here we are, 2026, and that shadow never left."

 
The agent responded flatly. "That decision was never overturned, just overridden by privileges and policies. Not constitutional rights."

 
Tanya whispered, more to herself than anyone else, "We clung to names that deluded us into slavery."

 
Malik closed his eyes. He remembered something he once read something buried deep in an old religious studies class:

"Those who fail to recognize the free national name of their constitutional government are classed as undesirables, and are subject to all inferior names and abuses and mistreatments that the citizens care to bestow upon them."

It was from Prophet Noble Drew Ali, founder of the Moorish Science Temple of America. Tanya, too, remembered the writing. She recited slowly, her voice steadying:

"It is a sin for any group of people to violate the national constitutional laws of a free national government and cling to the names and the principles that delude to slavery. "She continued, quoting from memory:
 
"There is but one issue for them to be recognized by this government and of the earth and it comes only through the connection of the Moorish Divine National Movement... so they and their children can receive their Divine rights... and not under a granted privilege as has been the existing condition for many generations."
 
Jordan and Ava began crying. Tanya knelt and hugged them tightly. “We tried to do everything right,” she murmured, “but we didn’t know how deep the deception ran.”

 
Malik looked out the door, the street lined with ICE vans. Other families, other neighbors detained, crying, confused. All of them are African-American.

 
He was led away in handcuffs. “We knew who we were, at least we thought we knew,” he said, “but we never joined the Temple. We never proclaimed the nationality of Moorish Americans. I didn't protect my family.”

Tanya followed with the children. The red and blue lights painted the sidewalk in tragedy.

Click Here to Register