We continue to hope and pray for Essam’s safety as he remains missing. It is difficult to recount not just the details and dates of a person’s life, but also the essential spirit of a person. It becomes a nearly impossible task for two visionaries, who in the face of danger, refused to leave their communities despite the violent conflict spreading all around them, and who moved their nation closer toward the path of justice.

The USIP Libya team traveled throughout Libya many times in 2012 and 2013, and also at the beginning of this year. On many occasions, our team interacted with both Salwa and Essam, and we are beyond grateful for how they have shaped our work and our lives.

The stories of Salwa and Essam are innumerable. So too is the deep sense of loss we feel for Salwa. Knowing how deeply it is felt by their children, who stand out in their own right, their families, Benghazi, and Libya only makes our emotions that much more raw. It is rightly a time for mourning, but also a time to celebrate life. As we move forward, we take the lessons imparted by Salwa and Essam, and we apply them in our own lives. We must continue to act on behalf of justice, peace and the people of Libya. And yet, in this pursuit, there are no easy answers.

We hope that we can all work together to see through their vision for Libya: peaceful, free and secure, welcoming and beaming with light. Though words cannot truly capture how we all feel, we wish through the melding of our individual recollections in this team tribute to share our great memories of this extraordinary couple.

I saw her drive and her passion for Libya. Flying into Benghazi in the early days of the revolution, I was told I had to meet this amazing lawyer and human rights activist. Salwa’s passion for Benghazi and Libya left an eternal impact. Her work to pull Libya out of the violence and political stalemate showed us her tenacity in the face of this uphill battle.

She was a surrogate mother to all the friends of her three sons. That was more often demonstrated behind the scenes, but is forever part of her legacy.

A colleague and I met her in June 2013, when USIP held workshops to focus on trauma resilience in Libya. I listened to Salwa, one of the most eloquent and vocal of the group, highlight issues of gender-based violence, and the desperate need for reform and human rights protections. She pointed out that violence has impacted everyone, including the higher-level officials. She also reminded everyone that results would not come immediately, but she was hopeful that Libya would gradually overcome its challenges. We were so thankful for her participation, and for the facilitation of the event in Tripoli by her husband and partner, Essam Gheriani.

Both Essam and Salwa adeptly pointed out key issues, bringing out the voices of those who could not be heard while respectfully listening to anybody else in the room. The leadership and respect that they immediately infused in any gathering were deeply compassionate, a quality that is the sign of true leaders. Beyond the young people whom they mentored, they were respected by many revolutionaries. I recall that when Essam joined us in a meeting with Libyan officials, they looked at him as the wise one in the room.

Always next to her in her work was her husband and partner, Essam Gheriani. He will always be a part of our USIP family. He sits on our Libya Rule of Law advisory group and has provided us moral support throughout all our work in Libya. His laughter and wry smile, slipping a joke into your conversation that takes you a minute to grasp, touched our hearts.

Beyond the personal relationship he developed with us, Essam has made a lasting mark on our approach to peacebuilding. In the early days, when we came to Libya thinking we needed to talk about prison, police, and court reform, legal empowerment, and access to justice, Essam, a trained psychologist, opened our eyes to the trauma suffered by the Libyan people. He explained that you couldn’t address justice and security without addressing the psychological components to rule-of-law reform. And he emphasized the need to incorporate healing into any reform effort, including by paying attention to the resources that the community itself had put in place to face the long-term effects of oppression and violence.

Essam’s passion for his native Libya was palpable during a visit to the United States for a public event at USIP on trauma awareness. He shared with me quietly how he closed down his business, and he and Salwa dedicated their lives to supporting justice and freedom for the Libyan people.

Losing someone like Salwa triggers a mix of feelings: sadness for the ugly and unfair death itself but also concern for the risk of despair in a country she believed in strongly and for which only people like her could have been the compass towards democracy. I recall several long discussions over the phone with Salwa regarding the National Dialogue process and how strongly she believed in it as the mean towards democracy. Despite several death threats to her and her family, she left Benghazi only to reach out to communities across Libya as part of her work in the National Dialogue or to visit her son abroad -- a son who shares his mother’s strong personality and determination.  She once said to me, “Yyou should visit Benghazi when you come -- it is not as people picture it, it is safe.” It is now safe for you Salwa, but never for those who felt threatened by your voice, because your legacy will continue with peace believers in Libya, young and old, and with your family.

I am left rather without words of my own. In thinking about the loss of Salwa and the protection I wish and hope for Essam, I reach for a poem from home by John O’Donohue. The title, “Beannacht,” means “blessing” in the Irish language. 

We have so few occasions in our lives where we remain forever changed and touched by the passion and pure exuberance of individuals who surround us.  In the landscape of post-conflict and peacebuilding, these occasions are even rarer, and even more preciously guarded. I wish more than anything there was a way to guard the light and spirit of Salwa, a fiery yet poised human rights advocate who carried the weight of Libya’s Revolution and ultimately its transition, on her shoulders. I met Salwa in Tripoli on only one occasion, but was enthralled by her charisma and genuine dedication to moving Libya past dictatorship and to an inclusive democracy.  In follow-on communication after our meeting, she continued to pave the way for Libya- serving as a leader and bright light despite the crisis of leadership that had darkened much of the Libya she loved so dearly. Her fight does not end because of the brutality and senselessness that surrounds her death. She continues to galvanize the spirits of Libyans and the international community who not only pray for Libya’s future, but continue to hope and dream that her vision will come to life. 

Friends and admirers of Salwa and Essam are holding a tribute in front of the White House on Saturday, July 12, 2014, from 11 a.m. to 1 p.m. They’ve created a Facebook page with more information.