Vaccine Fatality Testimonial
Vaccine Fatality of Neema Jahed
Describe the symptoms and the timeline of the reaction.
My son, Neema, was an architect working as a Virtual Design and Construction Engineer in Washington, D.C. When the pandemic shifted everyone to remote work, he came home to Lexington to stay with us.
Upon arrival, he went directly to the basement efficiency and stayed there for two full weeks. At that time, COVID testing was not readily available, and he was determined to keep his distance until he was sure he wasn’t infected. After the two weeks passed, he finally came upstairs, and we could hug and kiss him again.
Neema didn’t sit idle while staying with us. He began organizing his room to make the most of the windows and the view outside—he always loved the beauty of the trees, the sky, and nature. He also helped around the house, building me a pantry in the basement where I could store extra food, toilet paper, paper towels, and other supplies.
Today, whenever I go to the basement, I see that pantry and remember Neema’s kindness. I remember his thoughtfulness in knowing what I needed, his creativity in using items we might have considered junk, and the loving care he put into everything he did. Everything in Neema’s short life was full of love, gentleness, and creativity. So often, his father and I reflect on what a jewel he was—and what a jewel we lost. We looked forward to having him in our lives for years to come, to seeing him marry and become a father. He would have been a wonderful husband and a great dad. I had hoped he would be with me in my old age, the way I was for my parents. But destiny had a different plan.
The three of us—Neema, his dad, and I—worked from home together. We would rise around 8 a.m., have some fruit and coffee, and then head to our separate workspaces in the house.
In his spare time, Neema studied the stock market, invested, and took online classes and workshops. He became so skilled that he encouraged me and his aunt to begin investing, too.
That period was one of the most peaceful and cherished times of my life, though it was far too short. I believe Neema felt at peace as well.
Knowing I enjoyed walking, Neema often joined me for walks in the Park. On special occasions like Mother’s Day or a birthday, we would go hiking in a natural park and pick up something to eat on the way home.
Remembering these moments now, my heart aches for that beautiful, loving soul who was taken from us far too soon.
Like most people during the pandemic, we were anxiously awaiting a vaccine. Neema received two doses of the Pfizer mRNA vaccine in April and May of 2021.
In June and July, he began experiencing anxiety and occasional dizziness.
One Saturday in September 2021, we had planned to go hiking. I was waiting in the kitchen when he came upstairs, and I could see the tiredness in his eyes. I suggested we cancel the hike. Later that afternoon, he went out, and on his way back, he hit a parked car. Thankfully, he wasn’t hurt, but his car was totaled. We eventually discovered the brain tumor had impaired his right peripheral vision, which led to the accident. Days afterward, he experienced severe dizziness and vomiting. We took him to the emergency room, and there our nightmare—the one that forever changed our lives—began.
In late September 2021, five months after my healthy 35-year-old son received his second Pfizer dose, he was diagnosed with primary cardiac sarcoma, which had already metastasized to his brain.
Over the next 22 months, he endured an unimaginable medical journey: an extremely complicated and lengthy open-heart surgery, two brain surgeries, six months of in-patient chemotherapy, gamma knife radiation, and radiotherapy. Despite it all, the brain tumor returned, growing into his brain stem. He gradually lost his abilities—to walk, to see, to use his hands, and finally, to speak. His mind remained sharp, and he could hear everything, which only magnified his suffering. He died a day after his 37th birthday in August 2023.
During Neema’s illness, whenever I was with him, I felt the pure love in his beautiful soul—in his demeanor, his selfless actions, and his words, which were always more worried for us than for himself. When I was alone, I was overcome with sadness, anger, and guilt. I wondered if we had done—or not done—something that led to this devastating illness. The question of the vaccine nagged at me, but when I mentioned it to family and friends, almost everyone except my sister-in-law disagreed. I chose not to pursue it for one reason: Neema believed his condition was simply terrible luck, a sad destiny he had accepted. Had he thought the vaccine was the cause, he would have been anguished by the thought it could have been prevented.
After Neema’s death, I searched for answers. Cardiac sarcoma is exceptionally rare and aggressive. My son had been healthy, with no genetic predisposition or family history of cancer. During my search, I found information online suggesting a possible link to the Pfizer mRNA vaccine. Acting on this, I had his preserved heart tumor tissue tested. The report I received stated that spike protein related to the vaccine was detected and was identified as the cause of his sarcoma.
What would you like others to know?
For about a year after my son’s death, I searched desperately for the cause of his cancer. I read countless papers on cardiac sarcoma—its rarity, its aggression, and the profound lack of research into its origins. The only potential link I could find was the Pfizer mRNA vaccine he had received five months before his diagnosis. Yet when I raised this possibility, I was often met with dismissal. “Cancer doesn’t develop that fast,” I was told. “Five months isn’t enough time.”
Eventually, I connected with an organization that suggested his cancer could indeed be related to the vaccine, and they referred me to a laboratory that could help. I had them test my son’s preserved cancer tissue. The results provided what I believe is proof: his cancer was caused by the Pfizer vaccine’s spike protein.
An excerpt from the lab report states:
“These sequences clearly demonstrate that the vaccine has penetrated the cells of the tissue examined. The sequences are specific to the Pfizer/BioNTech and Moderna plasmid DNA and are not present in the SARS-CoV-2 virus.”
One day during an inpatient chemotherapy session, a doctor asked my son for permission to research his case. My son replied, “If it helps save lives, yes—why not?”
I wish more than anything that I could go back and prevent him from getting the vaccine. Of course, that’s an impossible hope. But in keeping with my son’s kind and beautiful spirit—and his own willingness to help others—I share his story now in the hope that it may save lives.
How would you like your loved one to be remembered?
My son, Neema, was my golden child. He was full of love—for his family, his friends, and his dogs. He had a gift for making everyone feel special, and all his friends considered him their best friend. He was a creative architect and a smart stock market investor, healthy, happy, and so full of life.
When he left us, unable to endure the suffering of his illness, he left behind a beautiful, gentle English Mastiff—a final gift of love from him to us.
Now, having seen proof that the Pfizer mRNA vaccine caused the cancer that took his life, I feel he was cheated out of at least 50 more years of happiness. We were all cheated—of future birthdays, holidays, his wedding, and the joy of watching him become a father. All of this was taken because we were led to believe this vaccine was safe.
We miss him every day.
