In the calm, windswept hills of Finistère, Brittany, a remarkable story unfolded—one born from grief, persistence, and an unexpected encounter with one of nature’s most destructive intruders.
For Denis Jaffré, a former sailor who had traded the open sea for the quiet rhythm of beekeeping, life had settled into something peaceful. Surrounded by the hum of bees and the scent of wildflowers, he had found a new kind of harmony. But in 2017, that peace was shattered. His hives—the foundation of his livelihood—came under attack from a relentless enemy: the Asian hornet.
These invasive hornets, known for wiping out bee colonies across Europe, destroyed half of Denis’s hives within months. Fifty colonies—gone. The blow was devastating, not only financially but emotionally. “You care for them, you watch them thrive, and then overnight, it’s all destroyed,” Denis recalled in an interview.
But rather than surrender to despair, Denis became determined to fight back—with ingenuity.
He began experimenting in his garage, using whatever he could find: scraps of wood, old jars, bits of mesh, and endless patience. His goal was simple but daunting—to create a trap that could stop the hornets without harming bees or other beneficial insects. Dozens of prototypes failed. He adjusted the size, the scent, the materials—over and over—until one design finally worked.
It was simple, clever, and incredibly effective.
The trap used two main parts: a container that attracted hornets with natural bait, and a fabric-covered chamber fitted with cone-shaped entrances—wide enough for hornets to enter, but too narrow for bees and butterflies. Once inside, the hornets couldn’t escape. Other pollinators, however, remained safe.
It was sustainable. It was precise. And it worked beautifully.
By 2019, Denis’s design drew national attention. His trap won a medal at the Lépine Competition, France’s oldest and most prestigious innovation fair—a recognition that turned a local beekeeper’s homegrown solution into a celebrated breakthrough in environmental protection.
The success gave Denis a new sense of purpose: to make his invention accessible to beekeepers everywhere.
In 2021, he founded Jabeprode, a company built on his principles of ecological responsibility and local craftsmanship. What began as a one-man effort in his living room evolved into a bustling workshop in Bodilis, a small town in northern Brittany. The 480-square-meter facility now employs a small team of seven, who hand-assemble each trap with care and precision.
“We’re not just building a product,” Denis explained. “We’re helping protect life.”
And the results have been extraordinary. Within a few short years, Jabeprode’s traps have spread to 18 European countries—including France, Belgium, Spain, Italy, and Germany—with growing interest from the United States, where Asian hornets have recently begun to appear. Experts have praised the traps for their balance of effectiveness and ethics: they target an invasive predator while preserving the delicate biodiversity vital to farming and ecosystems.
Denis’s creation didn’t just save bees—it helped restore ecological balance.
That mission remains deeply personal for him. As a former sailor, Denis has always felt connected to nature’s rhythm—the tides, the wind, the hum of his hives. To him, innovation means nothing if it harms the natural world. “We can’t solve one problem by creating another,” he often says. His invention proves that progress and preservation can coexist.
But Denis’s work goes beyond manufacturing. He’s now focused on educating others about sustainable ways to control hornets. Too often, frightened homeowners and local authorities use toxic chemicals or unsafe methods to destroy nests, causing more harm than good. Denis advocates for responsible approaches, including controlled use of sulfur dioxide—a method he says is far safer for the environment than widespread chemical spraying.
To meet growing global demand, Denis launched a crowdfunding campaign to expand his workshop and scale up production. The funds will also support further research into improving the traps and developing new eco-friendly tools to protect pollinators.
Behind the modest size of his operation lies a much bigger idea: to change how people respond to environmental crises. Denis believes ordinary individuals—farmers, gardeners, and citizens alike—can all contribute to protecting biodiversity. “Everyone can make a difference,” he says. “Every trap placed near a hive or garden helps keep the balance.”
His dedication has earned him the admiration of environmentalists and agricultural communities across Europe. Beekeeping associations credit his traps with saving thousands of colonies and preventing honey shortages. His work has even drawn academic interest—scientists are now studying his design to better understand hornet behavior and to develop new, non-lethal, species-specific traps.
Despite the recognition, Denis remains humble. For him, this has never been about fame or profit. “Bees teach patience,” he says softly. “They show you that survival depends on working together. I guess I just tried to do the same.”
From his once-cluttered attic to a workshop sending out shipments across Europe, Denis’s invention has become a quiet revolution. Each box that leaves Bodilis carries not just a trap, but a message of hope—a reminder that even in moments of destruction, something beautiful can be built.
For Denis, true success isn’t measured in sales but in pollination—in the return of the familiar buzz to fields and orchards that had gone silent. “Every time I see the bees back at work,” he says, “I know I’ve done something that matters.”
His story stands as a powerful reminder: sometimes what first appears as a disaster—a “hornet’s nest” in your attic—can become an opportunity. When faced with ruin, Denis chose creation. When faced with loss, he found renewal.
Today, his invention is saving bees across continents. More importantly, it stands as proof of one man’s refusal to give up and his belief that solutions built in harmony with nature are the ones that endure.
Because in a world full of noise and chaos, it’s still the quiet, steady hum of a thriving hive that sounds most like hope.