Ifunanya Nwangene was fast asleep in her ground-floor apartment in Nigeria’s capital last Saturday morning when a sharp, burning pain on her wrist jolted her awake around 8 a.m. A snake had slithered onto her bed and bitten her. This shocking incident led to her tragic passing, sparking urgent conversations about how hospitals handle snakebites and the severe shortage of antivenom in Nigeria, a country with one of the world’s highest rates of these incidents.
Ifunanya, a 26-year-old soprano who rose to fame on a local singing competition a few years back, knew she needed antivenom fast. She quickly tied a rope around her arm as a tourniquet to slow the venom’s spread, though experts now warn against this because it can block blood flow, damage tissues, and even raise the risk of losing a limb. Instead, the advice is to stay calm, keep the bitten area still, and rush to medical help.
But panic set in when she reached the first hospital and found no antivenom available, forcing her to head to another. At Abuja’s Federal Medical Centre in Jabi, she was put on a drip after the tourniquet was removed. Her condition worsened quickly, she struggled to speak and breathe. Friends and family scrambled to find more antivenom, racing to pharmacies since the hospital didn’t have enough on hand.
Polyvalent antivenom, which works against bites from various snakes, costs between 45,000 and 80,000 naira per vial, and the dose depends on the bite’s severity and the snake type. Despite their efforts, it was too late; Ifunanya passed away before they could get what she needed.
Her father, Christopher, was devastated, feeling the hospital could have done more. He questioned why they removed the tourniquet without immediate treatment ready, saying he’d rather she lost a hand than her life. Ifunanya’s story has shaken people across Nigeria, where snakebites are often seen as a rural threat, not something that hits in upscale urban areas like hers. Two snakes were later found in her apartment, one identified as a highly venomous forest cobra.
Nigeria sees thousands of snakebites each year, many fatal due to antivenom shortages—it’s hard to store because it needs refrigeration, and power outages are common in some areas. Stories like this are all too familiar: a man from Gombe survived a bite as a teen but lost his sister years later when antivenom couldn’t be sourced in time. Another from Kaduna turned to a traditional healer after hospitals failed him, surviving thanks to a herbal remedy from plant bark, though experts say such treatments aren’t reliable against deadly venoms.
The widespread reliance on traditional healers means many deaths go unreported, hiding the full scale of the crisis. In response to Ifunanya’s death, calls have grown for better antivenom access nationwide, though no firm timelines have been set. Experts urge governments to prioritize snakebite care in health plans, and recent research hints at future breakthroughs, like repurposing blood thinners as affordable antidotes.
Christopher remembered his daughter as a gentle, gifted soul who brought joy through her singing from a young age. She had been planning her first solo concert this year, a dream cut short by this preventable tragedy.