A university campus that serves as a haven for some of the rarest animals on the planet has a subtle allure. The majority of people associate Ateneo de Manila University with academic rigor, Jesuit tradition, and lecture halls. Few are aware that a living, breathing dedication to Philippine wildlife can be found tucked away within its verdant corridors and forest patches; in recent months, this dedication has produced news worthy of celebration.
The hatching of Chick #32, now known as Bayani—the Filipino word for hero—was recently announced by the Philippine Eagle Foundation. The Philippine Eagles Dakila and Sinag gave birth to the eaglet through cooperative artificial insemination as part of a meticulously regulated conservation breeding program. The fact that the chick’s adopter, Nico Herth, the owner and CEO of Procon Grumbach, chose the name shows how widely the cause has garnered support, far beyond the scientific community.
In this context, it is worthwhile to consider what artificial insemination entails. There is a serious threat to the Philippine Eagle. Less than 800 are thought to exist in the wild. Every hatch is a tiny battle against extinction rather than merely a biological occurrence. The Foundation has been advocating for the national bird for 39 years, having worked on this project for almost 40 years. It’s possible that each successful hatch deserves more attention than it typically receives because that kind of persistent institutional commitment rarely makes headlines.
Meanwhile, a different but related type of conservation work has been quietly taking place on the Ateneo campus itself. Since 2018, the Ateneo Wild, a citizen science project co-founded by environmental science instructor Abby Favis and biology instructor Trinket Constantino, has been creating an inventory of the university’s biodiversity. What they have discovered is truly unexpected. The campus has been observed as a stopover for migratory Peregrine Falcons. A ten-foot-long reticulated python was observed close to the Barangka steps.
There is proof that water monitors in the Philippines reproduce. As Favis has stated, “We want urban biodiversity to be a part of regular conversation,” and there’s a sense that the Ateneo Wild is gradually making that happen. It turns out that the campus is more than just green in the metaphorical sense. The project is not limited to social media.
The program’s reach has included educational flashcard sets, coloring books for species identification, soundscape ecology recordings, and guided bird walks. Researchers started comparing bird song recordings from before and after the pandemic during the COVID-19 lockdown to see if the abrupt human silence affected campus wildlife behavior. It’s the type of research that frequently yields the most genuinely intriguing results but seldom receives funding.
The eagle chick in Davao, the peregrine falcon on a campus in Manila, and the python by the steps are all connected by something. The Philippines is located in one of the world’s most threatened and biodiverse regions. Here, conservation is neither a luxury nor an idealistic goal. It’s a race against time, habitat loss, and the kind of apathy that results from ignorance of what is disappearing.
Even after three months, Bayani might never fully comprehend the significance of his existence. The effort is enormous, the stakes are genuine, and the bird at the center of it all just keeps growing—possibly the most human aspect of this tale.
