In the early hours of last Saturday, a serene morning in Nigeria's bustling capital, tragedy struck in an unsuspecting moment. Ifunanya Nwangene, a celebrated soprano singer who captured the hearts of many after appearing on the local adaptation of "The Voice," was abruptly awakened by an excruciating jolt of pain in her wrist. The cause? A snake had silently slithered onto her bed and delivered a fatal bite. 

Her father, Christopher Nwangene, recounted the shocking events of that fateful day during an interview with the BBC’s Newsday programme. “A snake came up on her bed and bit her," he revealed, a statement that amplifies the grim reality facing many Nigerians in regions where snake encounters are common. 

Ifunanya, fully aware of the urgent need for antivenom, rushed to a local hospital. In a desperate attempt to stem the flow of venom, she applied a tourniquet—a method once considered standard but now acknowledged by medical professionals to cause additional damage and increase the risk of amputation. Victims are now advised to remain calm, keep the affected limb immobilized, and seek immediate medical attention.

However, upon arrival at the first hospital, Ifunanya encountered a critical issue: there was no antivenom available. This lack of essential medication forced her to seek help at another facility, the Federal Medical Centre in Jabi, Abuja. In a heartbreaking turn of events, Christopher called on his brother to check on his daughter, who was showing alarming signs of decline.

Desperate for assistance, her uncle rushed to the hospital, only to find Ifunanya in grave condition. “Immediately they gave her the drip, the little girl started going down immediately. She said: 'Daddy, I cannot speak,’” Christopher recounted, his voice heavy with grief. 

Sam Ezugwu, a close friend and music director of the Amemuso Choir where Ifunanya sang, arrived shortly thereafter and noted that antivenom had been administered but was insufficient. “[She] was struggling to breathe,” Ezugwu detailed, revealing the frantic search by family and friends for more antivenom, which eventually proved futile. When a vial was finally procured, it was too late; Ifunanya had already succumbed to the effects of the snakebite.

The situation faced by Ifunanya and her family points to a larger systemic issue within Nigeria’s healthcare framework, particularly in the handling of snakebites—a public health crisis that has long been overlooked despite Nigeria having one of the world's highest incidence rates. The Federal Medical Centre disputed claims regarding the unavailability of antivenom and insisted that they provided appropriate care, a statement met with skepticism by the grieving family.

In Nigeria, the standard treatment for snakebites involves polyvalent antivenom, effective against various snake species, with costs ranging from 45,000 to 80,000 naira ($33 to $58). However, the acute shortage of this vital medicine and the difficulty in accessing it in time can mean the difference between life and death. Following Ifunanya's tragic passing, public discourse surrounding this issue has reignited, pushing for urgent reforms in the availability of medical treatments for snakebites in Nigeria.

The grim reality was further emphasized when reports emerged that two snakes were later found in Ifunanya’s apartment—one identified as a forest cobra, a species known for its potent venom. The persistence of snakebites often conjures perceptions of rural danger; however, Ifunanya's affluent Abuja residence underscores the urgent need for the nation to confront this health hazard head-on.

Former Health Minister Olorunnimbe Mamora previously labelled the snakebite situation in Nigeria as epidemic, revealing that approximately 20,000 snakebike incidents occur annually. The association of snakebites with rural areas exacerbates the problem, often leaving urban centers seemingly unprepared for such emergencies.

Survivors of snakebites like Shuaibu Mohammed, who narrowly escaped death 15 years ago, recount similar tales of horror. His sister, Sadiya, was not so fortunate. Bitten while going to the bathroom at night, she tragically lost her life due to the unavailability of antivenom, despite frantic efforts to obtain it from a neighboring state.

Ifunanya's untimely death is not just a personal tragedy but a glaring wake-up call for Nigeria to address the systemic inadequacies in its healthcare system concerning snakebite management. As Nigeria mourns the loss of a bright star, the urgent need for reform and increased awareness on snakebite treatment has never been more apparent. The hope is that her legacy will inspire change, transforming grief into a movement for better healthcare solutions across the nation.