Jehad Alzaben Remembered as Beloved Merchant, Mentor, and Community Pillar After Tragic Killing Near East Livingston Avenue in Columbus

Jehad Alzaben Remembered as Beloved Merchant, Mentor, and Community Pillar After Tragic Killing Near East Livingston Avenue in Columbus—Outpouring of Grief, Questions Surround Sudden Loss
COLUMBUS, OHIO — In the heart of Columbus’s Livingston Avenue corridor, a neighborhood accustomed to the rhythmic pulse of daily life—children walking to school, neighbors chatting on porches, and the smell of grilled meat wafting from corner stores—was jolted into grief and disbelief following the sudden and violent death of Jehad Alzaben, a 45-year-old Palestinian-American business owner who had for more than a decade been a bedrock of the East Side community.
On May 24, as dusk settled and the usual stream of customers flowed through the doors of his store near East Livingston Avenue and Fairwood Avenue, Jehad was shot during an apparent robbery-turned-homicide. Witnesses describe a scene of confusion, a confrontation at the front counter, and a single gunshot that forever silenced a man whose influence echoed far beyond the walls of his modest convenience shop.
What followed has been an outpouring of sorrow, remembrance, and outrage. For many residents, Jehad’s store was more than a place to buy bread or soda—it was a sanctuary of stability in a community often overlooked by city planners and underserved by public investment.
A Life of Quiet Service
To understand the impact of Jehad Alzaben’s loss, one must understand his role in the community—not as a public official or a headline-maker, but as something arguably more vital: a daily, dependable presence.
Born in the West Bank and immigrating to the United States in his late 20s, Jehad made Columbus his home in the early 2000s. After years of working long hours at gas stations and grocery stores, he eventually saved enough to purchase his own shop—a small but busy corner store located along a stretch of East Livingston Avenue that straddles economic precarity and communal resilience.
“He came here to build a life, and he built one that helped hundreds of others,” said Yasir Hammoud, a local imam and friend of Jehad’s. “He gave credit to people who were struggling, he mentored teenagers who didn’t have fathers, and he donated food every single Ramadan.”
Neighbors recall how Jehad would often slip bags of groceries to single mothers in need or quietly cover the cost of after-school snacks for kids who had no money. His philosophy, according to those closest to him, was simple: “If I have something to give, I give it.”
The Night That Shattered the Neighborhood
Details remain under investigation, but preliminary reports from the Columbus Division of Police indicate that Jehad was working behind the counter when a masked individual entered the store around 9:15 p.m. Surveillance footage, which has not yet been released publicly, reportedly shows a brief verbal exchange followed by a demand for cash. What occurred in the moments that followed is still being pieced together.
What is clear is that Jehad was shot once in the chest. A customer arriving moments later found him collapsed behind the counter and called 911. Despite efforts by paramedics, he was pronounced dead shortly thereafter at Grant Medical Center.
Police have not named a suspect, and no arrest has been made as of this writing. Investigators are seeking information from the public and are reviewing surveillance footage from nearby businesses and residences.
A City’s Reckoning: Crime, Economics, and Community Resilience
While Jehad’s death is a personal tragedy, it is also the latest in a troubling pattern of violence affecting Columbus’s East Side. The Livingston-Fairwood corridor has long struggled with issues of underfunding, food insecurity, and limited youth services. In recent years, a spike in gun violence has further destabilized community trust.
According to Columbus Police Department data, violent crime in the 43205 ZIP code, which includes the area near Jehad’s store, rose by nearly 22% over the past two years. Many local businesses have been forced to install bulletproof glass or close early. Still, Jehad remained open late, refusing to turn his back on the neighborhood.
“He believed in this place even when the city didn’t,” said Latasha Merriweather, who lives two blocks from the store and knew Jehad since she was a teenager. “He looked out for all of us. He was family.”
From Local Mourning to National Solidarity
The tragedy has reverberated beyond Columbus, especially within the Palestinian-American community. Statements of mourning have come in from organizations such as the American-Arab Anti-Discrimination Committee and the Palestinian American Council, both of which praised Jehad as a “selfless entrepreneur” and a “pillar of grassroots prosperity.”
In Columbus, the grief has been immediate and raw. A vigil held outside the store on May 25 drew more than 300 people, including clergy, city councilmembers, schoolchildren, and strangers who had never met Jehad but had heard the stories of his kindness.
Candles spelled out his name in Arabic and English, and mourners placed bouquets and hand-written notes against the store’s shuttered entrance. “We lost a father to many,” read one card. Another simply said: “Thank you for seeing me.”
City Response and Community Demand for Change
Columbus Mayor Andrew Ginther released a statement calling the murder “a heinous and cowardly act against a man who represented the best of who we are.” He pledged increased patrols in the area and support for the ongoing investigation, though many in the community say more systemic changes are needed.
“We need investment, not just police presence,” said Reverend Trina James of the nearby Mount Olivet Baptist Church. “This neighborhood has bled too long without healing. If Jehad’s death is to mean anything, let it be a wake-up call.”
A petition is circulating to rename the block where Jehad’s store sits in his honor. City Councilmember Shayla Favor has expressed support for the measure, as well as for establishing a community grant in his name to support small, locally owned businesses in underserved areas.
The Family He Left Behind
Jehad is survived by his wife, Rana, and four children—three of whom are still in school. Friends say he worked tirelessly to provide them with stability and opportunity, often working 14-hour days and taking no vacations.
“He was the strongest man I ever knew,” said his eldest son, Khalil Alzaben, in a tearful eulogy delivered at the Islamic Center of Columbus. “He taught me to stand up for what is right, even if you’re standing alone. He died in the same place he lived—in service to others.”
A GoFundMe campaign to support the family has raised over $95,000 in less than 48 hours, with donations pouring in from across the U.S., Europe, and the Middle East.
Justice, Legacy, and the Road Ahead
For now, the questions surrounding Jehad’s murder remain unresolved. Who killed him? Why? Was he targeted, or was this yet another senseless act of random violence? Investigators are urging anyone with information to come forward, promising anonymity and emphasizing the urgency of bringing closure to the grieving family.
In the meantime, Jehad’s absence is palpable. The store remains shuttered, its windows darkened, the hum of its coolers and the scent of spices replaced by silence and sorrow.
But his legacy endures—in the teenagers he mentored, in the families he fed, and in the community he nurtured with unwavering patience and love.
As one neighbor put it: “Some people build monuments. Jehad built people.”