THE death of fast-rising singer Ifunanya Nwangene, following snakebite in Abuja, shows that the rot in Nigeria’s healthcare system has reached more frightening dimensions. It is a sad reminder of a country that has become comfortable with losing sight of why government and its institutions exist.

Ifunanya’s passing is more painful because it is yet another episode of what has become a disturbing familiarity. Nigerians have had to watch too many loved ones slip away in emergencies that ought to have been survived. Their sensibilities have endured the emotional assaults of hospital explanations that arrive after patients have died. And amid this bitter cycle, there is the unfortunate reality that it often takes the death of a high-profile individual to make the system stir.

World-renowned author, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, lost her son Nkanu Nnamdi, in a Lagos hospital in January 2026 in another sobering case in which the family alleged medical negligence, while the hospital had a counter-narrative. Amid the exchange of blame and defences, an innocent 21-month-old boy was silenced forever.

Reports on Ifunanya’s case suggest frantic movement between facilities, the loss of precious hours, and a desperate search for antivenom. Denials have since followed, but these cannot erase the discomfiting fact that a young woman has died needlessly.

That a tertiary institution such as the Federal Medical Centre, Abuja was pointed at as being unable to deliver emergency interventions, while the hospital has debunked the accusation, says a lot about a system that is more inclined to apologise than to deliver life-saving care. It shows an absence of preparedness and exposes deep flaws in the health sector.

Coming amid several reported incidents of robbery and kidnapping, the snakebite tragedy has, once more, shattered the illusion of safety in Nigeria’s seat of power. If a young woman could not be saved from venom in Abuja, little needs imagining about what hope exists for farmers, herders or villagers in remote parts of the country.

There is nothing mysterious about snakebite envenomation. It is not a viral outbreak. The World Health Organisation lists it as a neglected tropical condition, largely because it disproportionately kills the poor, the rural, and the forgotten. For a nation that claims to prioritise citizens’ welfare, what should ordinarily have followed is stocking up on vials and ensuring early administration by trained staff. Sadly, the will to do this has remained elusive in Nigeria.

This is why public outrage matters, and why legislative noise is not enough. As welcome as it is, the Senate’s recent call for mandatory antivenom stocking is embarrassing. Public health institutions should not require prodding from lawmakers to do what common sense and professional duty already demand. Corrections need not always come after a catastrophe. Why does the government always seem to wait for tears before it bestirs itself to act?

The Medical Director of the Snakebite Treatment and Research Hospital (STRH) in Kaltungo, Gombe State, Dr Nicholas Amani, was quoted recently as saying, “anti-snake venom is a scarce commodity… The reason is that snakebite mainly affects the less privileged, farmers, and rural dwellers; people who do not really have a voice.” He also emphasised the cost constraints on poor folks who often have to pay as much as N750,000 for a three-vial treatment course.

That people on the lower rungs of society “do not have a voice” is the very reason the government exists. That is to give voice to, and solve, the challenges of the citizens. In the United Kingdom, snakebite-related deaths news belongs to decades past. About 100 adder bites are reported in the UK each year, yet only 14 deaths have been recorded in more than a century. The irony of the Nigerian situation is not lost. The government, having failed to consign snakebite-related deaths to the annals, now has to contend with deadly reptiles’ sting on both the poor and the rich.

The STRH reportedly handles an average of 2,500 cases per year and has been at the forefront of treating patients and conducting research on snakebite envenoming in sub-Saharan Africa for over five decades. Such a facility must not lack the funds and federal assistance needed to save lives. The Federal Government in 2025 announced plans to take over the hospital to enhance operations and research. It should make good this promise, and with urgency.

Aiming for reliable treatment alone is not enough. Prevention must be made a part of policy. There must be a renewed focus on environmental hygiene. When refuse is left unattended, it attracts rodents. Rodents, in turn, attract snakes. Poor drainage is also an invitation to danger, as it creates havens for reptiles.
Community clean-ups and public education must be embarked upon with the understanding that they are life-saving interventions. Farmers and urban residents must consistently be educated on risk reduction, first aid, and when to seek care. Any public health response that ignores the environment risks failure.

The Federal Government must devote unprejudiced attention to indigenous knowledge. A country that treats its knowledge base lightly while importing solutions risks remaining dependent forever. For long, rural communities have managed snakebites with local methods born of necessity. While many such practices are unsafe and ineffective, some may hold valuable answers that can be incorporated into Nigeria’s quest to solve the problem of snakebite-related deaths.

Healthcare must be treated as a national security issue, deserving the same urgency accorded to elections, fuel prices and political appointments. Thus, the Federal Ministry of Health should mandate the compulsory stocking of antivenom in all tertiary hospitals. This should be backed by adequate funding and regular audits. Also, regional snakebite response centres should be established in high-risk zones and integrated into an effective emergency transport network.

The death of Ifunanya is one too many. Its lessons must be noted and its warnings put to good use. There should be a national awakening to the need to guarantee access to antivenom in public hospitals, ensure the availability of trained emergency response teams, boost research into local treatments, and enhance prevention strategies.

These should be put in place soonest, to prevent deaths and avoid condemning the nation to a vicious cycle of avoidable loss.