Tunde Ogunbiyi just won the prestigious Future for Nature Award for protecting bats in Nigeria. That's a massive deal. It’s not just a trophy for his shelf. It’s a wake-up call for a country that generally views these winged mammals as omens of death or, at best, a source of bushmeat. While the rest of the world celebrates this win, many Nigerians are scratching their heads wondering why anyone would spend their life saving a "witch bird."
The truth is that we’re killing the very creatures keeping our ecosystem from collapsing.
Ogunbiyi’s work focuses on the straw-colored fruit bat (Eidolon helvum). If you live in a city like Abeokuta or parts of Lagos, you’ve seen them. They hang in massive, noisy colonies in old trees. Most people want them gone. They cut down the trees or use fire to drive them away. But Ogunbiyi is betting his career that if he can change how we see these animals, we can save Nigeria's forests.
The Bat Misconception That Is Ruining Our Environment
I’ve talked to people who genuinely believe bats are transformed humans or spies for dark forces. It sounds like a movie plot. It’s not. It’s a deeply held cultural belief that makes conservation nearly impossible. When Ogunbiyi started his work, he wasn't just fighting habitat loss. He was fighting centuries of folklore.
Bats aren't your enemies. They’re your farmers.
The straw-colored fruit bat is a long-distance flyer. They travel hundreds of kilometers in a single night. As they fly, they disperse seeds. A lot of seeds. Research from the Max Planck Institute of Animal Behavior shows that these bats are responsible for regenerating vast tracts of degraded forest across Africa. They drop seeds in flight, often in places where birds don't go. Without them, the Iroko and Mahogany trees we value so much would struggle to reproduce.
We’re essentially shooting the messengers of reforestation.
Why This Global Award Actually Matters
The Future for Nature Award isn't handed out like candy. It’s reserved for young conservationists who show "outstanding passion and grit." For a Nigerian to win this, especially for a species as unpopular as the bat, says a lot about the quality of Ogunbiyi’s data and the urgency of the situation.
Nigeria has one of the highest rates of deforestation in the world. We lose roughly 400,000 hectares of forest every year. That’s insane. We don't have the budget or the manpower to manually replant every tree we cut down. We need natural helpers.
Ogunbiyi’s strategy isn't just about "save the animals." It’s about "save the system." By protecting bat roosts, he’s ensuring that the natural seed rain continues. If the bats stay, the forest has a fighting chance. If the bats die out because of the bushmeat trade or habitat destruction, the forest follows.
The Bushmeat Crisis and Disease Risks
Let’s talk about the elephant in the room. Or the bat in the pot.
In many parts of Southern Nigeria, bat meat is a delicacy. People hunt them by the thousands. They use nets, slingshots, and even smoke to bring them down. Beyond the conservation disaster, this is a public health time bomb.
You’ve heard of Ebola. You’ve heard of Marburg. Bats are natural reservoirs for many viruses. This doesn't mean bats are "evil." It means they have incredible immune systems that let them carry these viruses without getting sick. The problem starts when we handle them, butcher them, and eat them.
When you stress a bat colony by hunting it or destroying its home, their immune systems weaken. They shed more virus. By hunting them, we’re literally inviting the next pandemic into our kitchens. Ogunbiyi’s work involves educating hunters about these risks. It’s a tough sell. When you’re trying to put food on the table, a theoretical virus feels less scary than an empty stomach.
How We Can Support This Shift
We can’t all be Tunde Ogunbiyi. We aren't all going to spend our nights tracking bat colonies with GPS collars. But the mindset shift has to happen at a local level.
Stop the tree cutting in urban centers just because "bats live there." If a colony moves into your neighborhood, they aren't there to curse you. They’re there because their natural forest habitat is gone. They’re refugees.
We also need to push for better protection of "bat trees." In many Nigerian cities, these colonies have returned to the same trees for decades. These sites should be protected landmarks, not targets for "beautification" projects that involve clearing all the shade.
Next Steps for Local Conservation
If you want to actually make a difference, start with these moves.
First, stop buying or consuming bat meat. It’s the easiest way to reduce the pressure on these populations and protect your own health. Second, support local environmental NGOs that focus on Nigerian biodiversity. Most of our funding for these projects comes from abroad because we don't value our own wildlife enough to pay for its protection.
Lastly, educate your circles. When someone starts talking about bats as witches, give them the facts about seed dispersal. Tell them about the Nigerian who won a global prize for seeing the value in what everyone else discarded.
The Future for Nature Award is a win for Ogunbiyi, but the real victory will be when the straw-colored fruit bat can fly over a Nigerian city without being hunted. We need these bats more than they need us. It’s time we started acting like it.
