If wishes were horses, snakes would be extinct

2026-02-13 - 05:49

By Hilary Ogbuagu The tragic death of Abuja-based singer Ifunanya Nwangene, popularly known as Nanyah, following a snakebite at her residence on Saturday, January 31, 2026, is more than a personal loss to family, friends and the creative community. It is a national indictment. Read Also: Death in shadows of a canal: How 26-yr-old choir star, Ifunaya Nwagene, met tragic end According to multiple reports, the young artiste sought urgent medical care at two hospitals, only to be turned away untreated due to the unavailability of anti-venom. In a country of over 200 million people, one that prides itself on medical expertise, tertiary hospitals, and growing urban sophistication, such an outcome is not merely unfortunate, it is unacceptable. Her death has reignited an uncomfortable but necessary conversation: why do Nigerians continue to die from a known, preventable medical emergency in the 21st century? Why, despite scientific advances and decades of public health interventions, does snakebite still carry the weight of a death sentence in many parts of the country? Between Myth, Nature, and Neglects The public reaction has oscillated between grief, anger, superstition, and misplaced calls for the eradication of snakes altogether. While emotionally understandable, such calls miss the point. Snakes are not the enemy. They are an integral part of the ecosystem, controlling rodent populations and maintaining ecological balance. Total eradication is neither feasible nor desirable. What is both feasible and morally necessary is preventing avoidable deaths from snakebite envenoming. The real problem is not nature, it is neglect. A Neglected Public Health Crisis Snakebite envenoming remains one of the most underreported and underprioritised public health issues in Nigeria. While malaria, tuberculosis, HIV, and now emerging infectious diseases rightly receive structured attention, snakebite deaths occur quietly, often in rural or peri-urban communities, and rarely trigger sustained outrage or policy action. This neglect is reflected in hard realities: – Anti-venom is scarce, expensive, and inconsistently stocked. – Most hospitals lack emergency protocols for snakebite management. – Health workers are often untrained or ill-equipped to respond. – Data on snakebite incidence and mortality remains fragmented or nonexistent. The World Health Organisation classifies snakebite envenoming as a Neglected Tropical Disease, NTD, a label that fits Nigeria all too well. Why Anti-Venom Is Missing Where It Matters Most The absence of anti-venom in hospitals is not a coincidence; it is the result of systemic failure. Anti-venom production is complex and costly. It requires: – Species-specific research – Cold-chain storage – Skilled administration – Predictable demand to justify supply Without government-backed procurement and guaranteed funding, manufacturers have little incentive to produce or distribute anti-venom consistently. Hospitals, operating under tight budgets, are reluctant to stock a life-saving drug that may expire unused. The result is a deadly paradox: patients arrive in emergency rooms, but the cure is not on the shelf. This is not a technical failure alone, it is a political and administrative one. What Must Change Now If Nanyah’s death is to mean anything beyond mourning, it must catalyze reform. Several steps are both urgent and achievable: 1. Official Recognition of Snakebite as a Public Health Priority The Federal Ministry of Health must formally classify snakebite envenoming as a priority emergency condition. This designation unlocks funding, coordination, and accountability across federal and state levels. 2. Guaranteed National Anti-Venom Stockpiles Anti-venom should be procured centrally just as anti-malarials and vaccines are and distributed to designated referral hospitals and emergency centers nationwide. A national buffer stock, supported by dedicated budgetary allocation, would prevent the all-too-common refrain of “out of stock.” 3. Local Production and Regional Hubs Nigeria must invest in local or regional anti-venom production through public-private partnerships involving research institutes, teaching hospitals, and pharmaceutical manufacturers. Locally produced anti-venoms tailored to indigenous snake species are more effective, more affordable, and more sustainable. 4. Training, Protocols, and Emergency Readiness Availability without competence saves no one. Medical personnel must be trained to recognise snakebite envenoming, administer anti-venom safely, and manage complications swiftly. Clear national protocols and referral pathways should be standard, not optional. 5. Prevention Through Planning, Not Extermination Urban planning and environmental management matter. Poor waste disposal, unchecked rodent populations, bush encroachment, and inadequate drainage increase human-snake encounters. Community education, improved housing standards, and basic environmental sanitation can significantly reduce risk. 6. Data, Surveillance, and Accountability We cannot fix what we refuse to count. A national snakebite registry would provide the data needed to guide policy, allocate resources, and measure progress. Public awareness campaigns must follow, ensuring communities know what to do and where to go when bites occur. Beyond Wishes, Toward Responsibility Nanyah’s death should not be added to a growing list of forgotten tragedies. It should mark a turning point moment when Nigeria decided that preventable deaths are no longer acceptable collateral damage of administrative inertia. We may wish for a world without snakes, but wishes are not policy. We may lament nature, but nature is not the culprit. What we can build and must is a health system where: – A snakebite is treated as the emergency it is, – Hospitals are equipped to save lives, not watch them slip away, – And no Nigerian dies because a known antidote was simply unavailable. If wishes were horses, snakes would be extinct. But if leadership were decisive, preventable deaths would be. Vanguard News