How We Grew It: Building Madagascar's Centre ValBio from a Desperate Mission to Save Lemurs

Patricia Wright, primatologist and founder of Centre ValBio, on establishing one of the world's most important tropical research stations

Finding an "extinct" lemur and discovering a new species

When I first arrived in Madagascar in 1986, I had one mission: determine whether the greater bamboo lemur (Hapalemur simus) was truly extinct. Nobody had seen one in years, and I traveled to every location where it had last been observed, searching for any living individuals.

I searched for a long time before finally finding them in the forests near Ranomafana. At the same time, I discovered a brand-new species to science: the golden bamboo lemur.

There I was, very excited, because we had the golden bamboo lemur, a new species to science, and the greater bamboo lemur that we thought was extinct in the same forest.

Watching loggers destroy my discovery site

Just as I started my research, the timber exploiters arrived. Local villagers were chopping down huge trees by hand and hauling them out to be made into furniture. The impact was catastrophic. When one massive tree fell, it took down about nine other trees they didn't even use.

I went to the capital and met with the Department of Water and Forests. I explained our discoveries and why the area needed protection. His response? "These loggers have concessions. I signed them myself."

When I insisted the forest had to be protected, he was blunt. "Patricia, you are in Madagascar. It's one of the poorest countries in the world. We can't afford to make that a protected area. We can't make the maps and build the infrastructure and train the people to make a national park."

Then he stopped, looked me straight in the eye, and said: "But if you find the funds to make a park, we'll work with you to make that happen."

I stood there as a young assistant professor who had just started my career. I knew that devoting my energy to creating a national park meant I wouldn't write the publications I needed for tenure. But if those animals went extinct on my watch, how could I live with myself?

We found the money. We established Ranomafana National Park in 1991. In 2007, it became a UNESCO World Heritage Site, protecting over 41,600 hectares of rainforest habitat.

Building a research station with genetics labs on the edge of the rainforest

After establishing the park, I knew we needed infrastructure to support long-term research and conservation. That's how Centre ValBio was born.

We built one of the few research stations truly on the edge of a rainforest. Centre ValBio has modern facilities including genetics labs, infectious disease labs, an herbarium, and an insect collection. But this wasn't just about biodiversity research. We incorporated health and education from the very beginning.

We have –80°C freezers, MinION sequencers, electricity, internet, everything needed to make cutting-edge discoveries. Just recently, a Stanford team published findings in Nature about a gene in mouse lemurs associated with heart arrhythmia that works the same way in humans.

Madagascar's wildlife is 90% endemic, meaning these species occur nowhere else in the world. Research on lemurs has contributed to understanding human health, including genetic factors in heart disease and other conditions.

How a former lumberjack became one of Madagascar's best naturalists

When I first met Emile, he was working in timber extraction at Ranomafana. He asked if he could spend time with us following lemurs, and I said yes.

Very quickly, he fell in love with the forest as much as we did. He had little to no formal training, but suddenly he became a naturalist. Now he's one of the best in the country.

Emile's transformation inspired our Ecosystem Stewards program. We train local people to follow lemurs, capture insects, and do everything scientists do. They get paid, but it's more than a job. It's instilling a love for the natural world.

We also train villagers so they can get jobs in the national park service or work with us in science. Some focus on working with lemurs, others on community outreach, and still others on reforestation. This is the key. We must work with local communities to save Madagascar.

Pairing native trees with vanilla orchids to create economic value

People need to make a living, and that's both the enemy and the ally of conservation. We realized trees needed to have economic value beyond just "conservation."

With help from Catholic Relief Services, we started planting native trees with high-value crops. A vanilla orchid grows on the tree and prospers. People can harvest vanilla, a high-value product. We also introduced a black pepper vine from our rainforest that produces the highest-value peppercorns in terms of flavor.

Catholic Relief Services helps set up markets for these products, bridging the gap between remote villages and global markets. Malagasy people live on an island that isn't well-connected economically to the rest of the world.

This approach has been transformative. Villagers plant trees, harvest high-value crops, and earn incomes far higher than what they made from growing rice alone.

Becoming the first Western scientist to enter Ivohiboro

In 2016, a local Malagasy woman who had just finished her tourism degree told me about her birthplace, Ivohiboro. I'd never heard of anything notable there, but she insisted we visit.

When we reached it, we stood on a cliff looking down at an incredible forest sunken below us, protected from fires by its canyon location. It was an oasis in the desert. I was stunned. We could hear and see rainforest birds and lemurs, and all kinds of extraordinary biodiversity.

We launched an expedition and found new species of frogs, snakes, lemurs, and plants. This forest is a key to Madagascar's ancient history. It's a glimpse of what existed before human-set fires transformed vast areas into desert.

The discovery drew attention. A Smithsonian article came out, which inspired France 5 to film an expedition. Most importantly, it brought attention to surrounding villages. We hired local people for research, talked about the forest's importance, and trained biodiversity researchers.

Within just a few years, this unknown forest became a candidate protected area. Yesterday, I spoke with the Minister of Tourism about signing the paper to make it officially protected. It's on his desk right now.

Making a film about Simone, the last greater bamboo lemur in Ranomafana

There's a lone greater bamboo lemur in Ranomafana named Simone. We talk a lot about species going extinct, but I don't think any of us really think what that means to the animals. What it really means to be the last of your species in an area.

A young UK director made a short documentary called Surviving Alone: The Tale of Simone that brings it home. Here she is, trying so hard to find a mate that she actually spends time with golden bamboo lemurs, a closely related species. She's almost twice their size and not quite the same as them. She has disturbing social and emotional issues.

This film reaches people more than our general talk about extinction. Because this is a personal experience of an animal that has to face that dilemma. I saw Simone two days ago, and she was doing fine. She's become something of a star for tourists.

When political turmoil hit tourism

Political instability is never good for conservation. Recent government turnover created embassy warnings about violence. Once that's on the internet, tourists cancel reservations.

Tourism is a major industry in Madagascar now. When it's interrupted, everyone hurts. Tour guides, hotel owners, restaurant workers, even researchers. I flew in on a plane with empty seats, something that never happens.

Why does this affect conservation? When funding dries up and people get hungry, they turn to older ways of making a living: slash-and-burn agriculture. They may go back into forests, sometimes even into national parks that they'd previously left alone because of the economic benefits we'd created.

Poverty is the enemy of conservation in Madagascar, and people are hurting right now.

Research stations are engines of conservation

We published correspondence in Nature making the case that research stations are vital for conservation. Looking across the tropics, wherever you have a research station, you see successful conservation.

Research stations serve as hubs for everything I've described. They enable film crews like the BBC to come and raise awareness, they facilitate discoveries that generate global interest, and they train local people and international students.

Yet when you look at the millions spent on conservation, very little goes directly to research stations. They're not recognized as the engines of conservation that they truly are.

We need at least an endowment-style base to keep our people employed and operations running, even during threats like political turmoil or cyclones. Research stations have proven conservation impact. Funding should reflect that.

Using film to save Madagascar

I think before that cartoon film Madagascar came out, nobody knew what Madagascar was. Now they think it's a movie, which is maybe a drawback. But films play a pivotal role in helping people understand what's really at stake.

If you show people the unique and extraordinary species, and the dire crisis with forests being destroyed, they respond. They'll help.

Madagascar is on the brink of an extinction crisis, and people don't realize it. They don't realize how unique these species are, how far back in time they go, and how much we can learn from them.

We've worked with Island of Lemurs: Madagascar, an IMAX documentary narrated by Morgan Freeman, the BBC, and other filmmakers because films have a length and story arc that reach people in a deeper way than other media.

Madagascar is an island that needs help right now. After working here for nearly four decades, it's the people who keep me coming back, alongside the animals, because they're increasingly understanding that their forests are valuable.

We just celebrated World Lemur Day, and it was amazing to see the whole community participate, with children in parades and everyone talking about the value of the forest. That would have been impossible when I first arrived. Back then, they had no idea why anyone would think lemurs or forests were valuable except as timber.

Learn more about Centre ValBio's conservation work at centrevalbio.org