Honoring 30 Years of Cease Fire, Don’t Smoke the Brothers & Sisters Giving Brother Al Malik Farrakhan His Flowers

Washington, D.C. —The room held a certain electricity—both celebratory and sacred. People from every corner of the community gathered for one reason: to honor three decades of tireless grassroots dedication through Cease Fire, Don’t Smoke the

Brothers & Sisters, founded by Brother Al Malik Farrakhan. Faces that once carried the weight of the streets now carried a calm strength, a testimony to what transformation looks like when love meets conviction.

I thank Allah for Al-Malik Farrakhan. He is a community example of Love, Commitment to the Youth, and fighting for Black People. Last night 30th Anniversary of Ceasefire Don’t Smoke the Brothers and Sisters was AWESOME! - Brother Edward James Ford Community Activist-

For three decades, the Honorable Al-Malik Farrakhan and the Cease Fire family have stood on the frontlines to end senseless violence, create safe spaces, and build new leaders grounded in love, discipline, and service.- Brother Trayon White-

Women Acitvist who Support the Movement in Attendance

For 30 years, this organization has walked into neighborhoods many chose to avoid. They didn’t show up with speeches or statistics—they showed up with presence. They talked to people others had written off. They stepped between anger and impulse. They stood in the line of fire and chose peace.

Brother Hawk (l) Brother Al Malik(r)

Among those in attendance was Brother Ronald “Hawk” Hawkins, a close friend, confidant, and fellow soldier in this work, shared a deeply personal reflection—an eyewitness testimony of how this mission was born and what it cost to build.

Brother Hawk recalled the early days before the organization existed, when the streets shaped identities and survival dictated choices. He never glorified that past—he simply acknowledged it. He shared that in 1989, while incarcerated, Al Malik Farrakhan heard Minister Louis Farrakhan speak about the plague of Black-on-Black violence.

That message struck him with such force that instead of passing time, he began designing a blueprint. In the quiet corners of a prison library, he started writing what would become Cease Fire, Don’t Smoke the Brothers & Sisters. His goal was simple yet profound: to save Black men and women from self-destruction.

When Brother Al Malik returned home, he did not return to the same mindset. Brother Hawk recalls a moment in 1995, standing in his front yard. Al Malik approached him with an energy Hawke instantly recognized. Malik said, “Man, let’s go hurt some folks.” Hawk told him, “I don’t do that anymore.” Malik paused, then responded with the kind of purpose only God can instill: “Then let’s go save some—because out there, they’re trying to become what you used to be.”

That statement became a turning point.

Together, they recruited men and women who understood the streets—not from textbooks, but from experience. These weren’t polished professionals. They were people who knew pain, who knew loss, and who knew the desperation that can lead someone to pick up a weapon. They entered forgotten blocks, abandoned communities, places where hope—if it existed—was buried deep. They worked with the individuals many called “too far gone.” Al Malik insisted they were not lost; they were simply waiting to be seen.

What set him apart was not a program, but a principle. He refused government funding because he refused to let anyone dictate how he served his people. He wanted no contract that came with a leash. His work was guided by conviction, not politics. He believed that helping his people required moral independence.

For decades, he operated without compensation. His payment was seeing a brother put down a gun. His reward was seeing a mother sleep without fear.

This organization was never about photo opportunities; it was about saving lives.

Cease Fire’s spirit is rooted in the call issued during the 1995 Million Man March:Go home and make your community better.

While others left with inspiration, Brother Al Malik left with a mission. And he never stopped.

As the anniversary celebration concluded, there was a moment of stillness—an unspoken understanding that the baton is being passed. The work continues, not because the founders are here to do it forever, but because the next generation must learn to carry the torch.

Brother Ronald “Hawk” Hawkins captured that truth best when he said that Cease Fire’s mission was always to help our people “recognize that you cannot afford to be an enemy to yourself.” That message remains urgent today.

We honor Brother Al Malik Farrakhan for his unwavering commitment. We honor Brother Ronald Hawkins for keeping the record straight and the legacy alive. And we honor every unnamed soldier who chose peace over pride, community over ego, and purpose over pain.

Thirty years later, the work continues—not because it's easy,but because it is necessary.