I was born in Terengganu, a beautiful coastal state in Peninsular Malaysia. Growing up in a superstitious, conservative community, my siblings and I always had to follow the strangest rules that usually didn't make sense to me. Things like: don't whistle in the house, no nail clipping at night. And whenever we went out to play, we had to return home before sunset or before it got dark.
This particular rule made the night seem mysterious to me. I spent my school year admiring the dark, but never got around to really exploring it. As I got older, I was really drawn to beautiful nature. While in mangrove forests, a forestry officer told me about kelip-kelip. A group of insects that can produce light that are easiest to see at night. Given my limited experience with darkness --
(Laughter)
I decided to take a boat ride across the mangrove estuary one night just to see what they look like. Well, the first 15 minutes of the journey was frightening. It was pitch-black out there, and the river was choppy. All I could hear was a faint breeze. As the river began to narrow, it was then that I noticed a mesmerizing sight. Countless tiny flashes of light started to flicker on the trees, all flashing in almost perfect unison. It was as if they were dancing to their own beat. That is the moment I will never forget. The moment I officially fell in love with kelip-kelip, known as fireflies in English.
(Laughter)
The rest is history. Now, I have been researching fireflies for more than 17 years, and I plan to spend my life uncovering and supporting the worlds of these creatures.
(Applause)
There are more than 2,000 firefly species that we know of, and they live all over the world. They are found in every continent except for Antarctica. Most of them have wings, and most species can emit light. The light is produced by special organs under their abdomens, and each species has its own unique light pattern. Some glow continuously, while others emit discreet flashing patterns, almost like a secret code.
Fireflies are so much more than just pretty lights. They are an essential part of a healthy ecosystem. The life cycle of fireflies keeps the ecosystem balanced. Each firefly species in its [respective] life stage has specific needs for a habitat to thrive. They act as bioindicator to ascertain whether a particular habitat is healthy or not.
For example, in a mangrove forest, when you see a population of fireflies decreasing, that could be due to water quality degradation, which can be a sign of a collapsing food chain. Why? Because firefly larvae eat snails, and snails need good water quality to thrive.
In terrestrial habitats, firefly population declines can be attributed to light pollution. They are extremely sensitive to artificial light because this type of light can disorient, repel or blind them. So most of the time when you see a decline in firefly population, you can bet other species that live in the same habitat in which fireflies are found are also declining. This is indicative of an unhealthy ecosystem. This is bad for us, humans, too. It is a sign of overdevelopment that can induce climate effects such as flood and drought.
As I delve deeper into the world of fireflies, I can't help but wonder the fascinating mysteries that unfolded before me. It amazed me to learn that some firefly species prefer to fly solo in forests, searching for light signals from their nonwinged mates, while others choose to gather amongst trees where the ocean meets the land. Equally intriguing is the fact that some firefly species have larvae that dwell in slow-moving rivers and ponds, while others have larvae that stay on land. I find it inspiring. I find it inspiring to know that there are so many undiscovered species hiding within them. Imagine how many more remarkable firefly species are waiting to be found. And I have always wanted to find them.
(Laughter)
But it can be hard. There are other dangerous animals, too, at night.
(Laughter)
On one occasion, when I was in a place called Linggi, I stopped at a tree with firefly colonies to collect a few specimens. When we turned on our headlamps, we saw a row of red eyes. And soon we realized that we were surrounded by crocodiles.
Audience: Oh!
Sometimes the discovery of new species can be prompted by examining collections in the Natural History Museum. In 2016, I went to Singapore and studied a firefly collection from Southeast Asia at Lee Kong Chian Natural History Museum. I saw a firefly specimen lying in the collection that did not match any of the descriptions that I knew of. There’s no name attached to it, and nobody knew what it was. In fact, the first specimen of this unknown species was collected in 1989. That is akin to a human adult living up to 30 years without a name and without a proper description of this person.
(Laughter)
So my colleagues and I in 2018 went on a mission. We coordinated the first night survey to the habitat of this unknown firefly, which happens to be the last remaining freshwater swamp in Singapore. We spent three hours exploring only to be greeted by the empty darkness. We went home disappointed and tired. Not to mention dirty and smelly from the mud. We went in again three months later. Still nothing. At this point we thought, this is it. The species is gone for good. However, the third time's the charm. During the third time visit to this swamp, we saw a few tiny flashes start to show up and perch on ferns. It was such an amazing feeling despite having to wade through the muddy, swampy waters and being feasted on by mosquitoes. The itchiness was still worth it.
(Laughter)
After two years of additional data collection and analysis, we confirmed that this unknown firefly species was new to science.
(Applause)
It was also the first time since over a century that a new species of firefly, a luminous firefly from Singapore, was found. And so we named it Luciola singapura.
There is a Malay saying.
(Speaks Malay)
"If you are going to reach into the pickle jar, might as well put your whole arm in."
(Laughter)
The further I have gone into this work as researcher and educator in the field of biodiversity and conservation at Monash University Malaysia, the more passionate I have become. I have transformed from a girl, a curious girl, wanting to know what kelip-kelip is, to a driven scientist committed to safeguarding the fireflies of the world. The problem is that firefly habitats are disappearing fast. We are now in a race against time to name species before they disappear.
I am a cochair of the IUCN Firefly Specialist Group, but it is also my personal mission to collaborate, to work together with firefly lovers and stakeholders to identify and conserve threatened firefly species everywhere.
Here's a flash of hope. Join me on this journey if you are keen. Fireflies need your help before they flash that one last time.
Thank you.
(Applause)