Why terrapins matter more than you think
WHEN Malaysians think of turtle conservation, they have an image of giant turtles gliding through the ocean and coming ashore under the cover of darkness to nest. But there's an equally vital cousin that barely catches our attention — the river terrapin.
Found only in Malaysia and Cambodia, this freshwater turtle is on the brink of extinction and, as some may say, badly in need of a "public relations" (PR) boost.
"River terrapins play an important role in our ecosystem and we're losing them," says Dr Chen Pelf Nyok, co-founder of the Turtle Conservation Society of Malaysia (TCS).
Since 2011, this homegrown non-governmental organisation (NGO) has been working to reverse the decline, one hatchling at a time.
GUARDIANS OF THE RIVER
Unlike their ocean-roaming relatives, river terrapins (Batagur affinis) prefer to live in muddy riverbanks and don't swim thousands of kilometres across open seas.
Instead, they stay close to home, quietly doing "menial jobs" that no one notices — keeping rivers clean, dispersing seeds and maintaining the ecological health of their freshwater habitats.
"Juvenile terrapins feed on dead animals and organic matter, helping to clean the river," explains Chen, adding: "As adults, they switch to a more herbivorous diet, eating plants and fruits and dispersing their seeds along riverbanks through their droppings, which helps propagate the growth of mangroves and other riparian vegetation."
In essence, these unassuming reptiles act as both "sanitation workers" and "gardeners" along the rivers they live in, holding together a delicate ecological web that many communities — especially in rural Terengganu and other parts of Malaysia — unknowingly depend on.
But their numbers have plummeted. Once commonly found in major rivers like Sungai Perak, Sungai Kemaman and Sungai Terengganu, river terrapins are now listed among the top 25 most endangered freshwater turtle species in the world. In Kemaman alone, it is believed that there are fewer than 300 nesting females remaining.
The threats to their survival are overwhelmingly posed by humans. Egg collection remains one of the most serious problems.
"People still collect their eggs," says Chen solemnly, adding: "And if we keep taking the eggs, there won't be any turtles left to lay them in the future."
Then there's sand mining, a lesser-known but significant problem. To build our roads, homes and cities, vast quantities of sand have been scooped up from riverbanks, often from the very nesting sites that terrapins return to year after year.
"When you mine sand from these banks, the turtles can't climb up to lay their eggs. The slopes become too steep, and in the end, the eggs fall into the water and perish," she says.
The consequences of sand mining are far beyond the turtles themselves. It changes the river's natural dynamics, leading to erosion and destabilising entire stretches of riverbanks.
"If the terrapins go extinct, seed dispersal won't happen. Mangroves won't grow along the river. When the monsoon floods come, there'll be nothing to hold the soil together," says Chen.
The result? Soil erosion will increase with a steady disappearance of fertile land along the affected rivers. "People will lose their coconut groves, padi fields and oil palm plots. Say you have 20 acres… after a few years, it could become less," she warns.
Discarded fishing gear poses another persistent danger. Terrapins that get caught in ghost nets or fishing lines often drown because they are unable to surface for air. "Many locals still erect fishing nets and leave them unattended for days," says Chen.
Climate change makes the situation worse. As global warming takes hold, higher sand temperatures during incubation will predominantly produce female hatchlings, disrupting the population balance and future mating potential.
River terrapins aren't just ecologically significant; they are also part of our cultural and historical heritage. These turtles were once a familiar sight along many rivers in the east coast of Peninsular Malaysia and, unfortunately, their eggs were also a prized delicacy.
It's only in the last few decades, when their numbers began to dwindle and scientific understanding of their ecological role increased, that people's attitude had slowly started to shift.
"Today, most young people in urban areas have no idea what a river terrapin is. Even in rivers near villages where they still survive, many people think they're just another turtle," remarks Chen.
This lack of awareness makes conservation efforts all the more challenging — but also highly essential.
Since its founding, TCS has focused on protecting the terrapins' nesting sites and collecting their eggs before predators, poachers or floods can claim them. Currently, the NGO is operating five protected nesting sites along Sungai Kemaman and has saved more than 11,000 eggs.
"In the early days, we collected around 600 to 800 eggs a year. Last year, we rescued 1,506," Chen shares proudly before declaring: "And this year, we're up to 1,825 eggs."
Each egg is carefully incubated in sand-filled hatcheries or styrofoam boxes, where temperatures are regulated to ensure a balanced mix of male and female hatchlings.
Before being released, the young terrapins are tagged with a microchip, allowing researchers to track their survival and migratory patterns in the river. Still, space and resources remain limited.
"We need bigger facilities to incubate and raise them safely before their release," says Chen, adding: "Sometimes, we have to release hatchlings directly into the river to avoid overcrowding."
River terrapin conservation is a long-term commitment and community engagement is a vital aspect to ensure success.
TCS has worked with local women in Kampung Pasir Gajah, Chukai, Kemaman, training them to sew turtle merchandise and produce other handicraft to generate income and create awareness.
They also run school programmes and hold pop-up workshops where children can make turtle-shaped soap and learn about freshwater conservation.
There's even a "Terrapin Independence Day" on every first Saturday of October, when volunteers organise carnivals, workshops and good old-fashioned sukaneka to get local communities involved.
River terrapins may not be the poster child of conservation campaigns, but their disappearance will cause a ripple across ecosystems and economies. Without these "shelled custodians", the risk of river erosion and floods will increase, leading to a loss of livelihood. What begins with a turtle may end with us humans.
As Malaysia faces mounting environmental challenges, from climate change to unchecked development, the fate of the river terrapin offers a cautionary tale about the hidden, interconnected ecosystems that our lives rely on — often without realising it.
So, do spare a thought for the humble river terrapin — quiet and unassuming, but a huge contributor in keeping the river ecosystem intact.
How can we, the lay people, help to ensure its survival? Well, we can start by not eating their eggs and supporting a hatchery by volunteering in programmes to create awareness. The rivers that terrapins protect are the same rivers that we depend on for life.
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Why terrapins matter more than you think
WHEN Malaysians think of turtle conservation, they have an image of giant turtles gliding through the ocean and coming ashore under the cover of darkness to nest. But there's an equally vital cousin that barely catches our attention — the river terrapin. Found only in Malaysia and Cambodia, this freshwater turtle is on the brink of extinction and, as some may say, badly in need of a "public relations" (PR) boost. "River terrapins play an important role in our ecosystem and we're losing them," says Dr Chen Pelf Nyok, co-founder of the Turtle Conservation Society of Malaysia (TCS). Since 2011, this homegrown non-governmental organisation (NGO) has been working to reverse the decline, one hatchling at a time. GUARDIANS OF THE RIVER Unlike their ocean-roaming relatives, river terrapins (Batagur affinis) prefer to live in muddy riverbanks and don't swim thousands of kilometres across open seas. Instead, they stay close to home, quietly doing "menial jobs" that no one notices — keeping rivers clean, dispersing seeds and maintaining the ecological health of their freshwater habitats. "Juvenile terrapins feed on dead animals and organic matter, helping to clean the river," explains Chen, adding: "As adults, they switch to a more herbivorous diet, eating plants and fruits and dispersing their seeds along riverbanks through their droppings, which helps propagate the growth of mangroves and other riparian vegetation." In essence, these unassuming reptiles act as both "sanitation workers" and "gardeners" along the rivers they live in, holding together a delicate ecological web that many communities — especially in rural Terengganu and other parts of Malaysia — unknowingly depend on. But their numbers have plummeted. Once commonly found in major rivers like Sungai Perak, Sungai Kemaman and Sungai Terengganu, river terrapins are now listed among the top 25 most endangered freshwater turtle species in the world. In Kemaman alone, it is believed that there are fewer than 300 nesting females remaining. The threats to their survival are overwhelmingly posed by humans. Egg collection remains one of the most serious problems. "People still collect their eggs," says Chen solemnly, adding: "And if we keep taking the eggs, there won't be any turtles left to lay them in the future." Then there's sand mining, a lesser-known but significant problem. To build our roads, homes and cities, vast quantities of sand have been scooped up from riverbanks, often from the very nesting sites that terrapins return to year after year. "When you mine sand from these banks, the turtles can't climb up to lay their eggs. The slopes become too steep, and in the end, the eggs fall into the water and perish," she says. The consequences of sand mining are far beyond the turtles themselves. It changes the river's natural dynamics, leading to erosion and destabilising entire stretches of riverbanks. "If the terrapins go extinct, seed dispersal won't happen. Mangroves won't grow along the river. When the monsoon floods come, there'll be nothing to hold the soil together," says Chen. The result? Soil erosion will increase with a steady disappearance of fertile land along the affected rivers. "People will lose their coconut groves, padi fields and oil palm plots. Say you have 20 acres… after a few years, it could become less," she warns. Discarded fishing gear poses another persistent danger. Terrapins that get caught in ghost nets or fishing lines often drown because they are unable to surface for air. "Many locals still erect fishing nets and leave them unattended for days," says Chen. Climate change makes the situation worse. As global warming takes hold, higher sand temperatures during incubation will predominantly produce female hatchlings, disrupting the population balance and future mating potential. River terrapins aren't just ecologically significant; they are also part of our cultural and historical heritage. These turtles were once a familiar sight along many rivers in the east coast of Peninsular Malaysia and, unfortunately, their eggs were also a prized delicacy. It's only in the last few decades, when their numbers began to dwindle and scientific understanding of their ecological role increased, that people's attitude had slowly started to shift. "Today, most young people in urban areas have no idea what a river terrapin is. Even in rivers near villages where they still survive, many people think they're just another turtle," remarks Chen. This lack of awareness makes conservation efforts all the more challenging — but also highly essential. Since its founding, TCS has focused on protecting the terrapins' nesting sites and collecting their eggs before predators, poachers or floods can claim them. Currently, the NGO is operating five protected nesting sites along Sungai Kemaman and has saved more than 11,000 eggs. "In the early days, we collected around 600 to 800 eggs a year. Last year, we rescued 1,506," Chen shares proudly before declaring: "And this year, we're up to 1,825 eggs." Each egg is carefully incubated in sand-filled hatcheries or styrofoam boxes, where temperatures are regulated to ensure a balanced mix of male and female hatchlings. Before being released, the young terrapins are tagged with a microchip, allowing researchers to track their survival and migratory patterns in the river. Still, space and resources remain limited. "We need bigger facilities to incubate and raise them safely before their release," says Chen, adding: "Sometimes, we have to release hatchlings directly into the river to avoid overcrowding." River terrapin conservation is a long-term commitment and community engagement is a vital aspect to ensure success. TCS has worked with local women in Kampung Pasir Gajah, Chukai, Kemaman, training them to sew turtle merchandise and produce other handicraft to generate income and create awareness. They also run school programmes and hold pop-up workshops where children can make turtle-shaped soap and learn about freshwater conservation. There's even a "Terrapin Independence Day" on every first Saturday of October, when volunteers organise carnivals, workshops and good old-fashioned sukaneka to get local communities involved. River terrapins may not be the poster child of conservation campaigns, but their disappearance will cause a ripple across ecosystems and economies. Without these "shelled custodians", the risk of river erosion and floods will increase, leading to a loss of livelihood. What begins with a turtle may end with us humans. As Malaysia faces mounting environmental challenges, from climate change to unchecked development, the fate of the river terrapin offers a cautionary tale about the hidden, interconnected ecosystems that our lives rely on — often without realising it. So, do spare a thought for the humble river terrapin — quiet and unassuming, but a huge contributor in keeping the river ecosystem intact. How can we, the lay people, help to ensure its survival? Well, we can start by not eating their eggs and supporting a hatchery by volunteering in programmes to create awareness. The rivers that terrapins protect are the same rivers that we depend on for life.
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