In a small coastal village near Malindi, 14-year-old Shukurani Konde Tuva lies in agony on a hospital bed. More than a month has passed since he was bitten by a puff adder, one of Africa’s deadliest snakes. His leg, now decaying, has left doctors with no choice but to amputate it above the knee.
Shukurani’s mother, Mariamu Kenga Kalume, spoke of her heartbreak, “My son’s leg is totally rotten. Maggots are coming out. They have to cut it.” His family rushed him to the nearest hospital, a two-hour journey by motorbike, but the antivenom administered failed to work. A traditional remedy a “snake stone” was applied but fell off during the journey. These delays, caused by a mix of traditional beliefs and medical treatment, proved to be fatal.
The situation is far from unique. Across the globe, 5.4 million people suffer from snakebites each year, with up to 138,000 deaths and 400,000 survivors left permanently disabled, according to the World Health Organization. In Kenya, underreporting and deeply ingrained myths suggest the actual figures could be even worse.
One of the main hurdles in tackling snakebites in Kenya is the tension between traditional healing practices and modern medicine. In Shukurani’s village, traditional healer Douglas Rama Bajila proudly displays his “snake stones,” which are made from cow bone. For just $1, he claims the stone draws out venom when soaked in milk. While these remedies may seem affordable, they contribute to dangerous delays in getting the victims the medical attention they need. Meanwhile, effective antivenoms remain scarce and costly, with each vial priced at up to KSh 8,000 ($62). Critical patients may need up to 20 doses, making the cost of proper treatment unaffordable for many.
For people like Ruth Kintalel from Kajiado, the consequences of delayed treatment are severe. After being bitten by a red spitting cobra, she spent five months in the hospital and lost the full use of her right arm. “My husband had to sell our livestock to pay the bills,” she recalled, highlighting the financial strain caused by snakebite treatment in a region where resources are limited.
Despite the urgent need for antivenoms, Kenya receives only 10,000 to 30,000 vials annually, a far cry from the 100,000 vials required. The majority of these vials are imported from India, a situation that leads to suboptimal treatment outcomes because the venom in Kenyan snakes differs from that found in India. Experts like Kyle Buster Ray from the Watamu Snake Farm emphasize that this mismatch can make treatment less effective.
Researchers in Nairobi are working on a solution. A team from the Snakebite Research and Intervention Centre is developing a Kenya-specific antivenom, expected to be ready in two years. “Our goal is one powerful vial per patient,” said Valentine Musabyimana from the Centre, emphasizing the importance of creating a treatment that is tailored to the venom found in Kenya’s native snakes.
Unfortunately, for children like Shukurani, the help may come too late. “It’s not just physical,” says Ray. “Watching your limb rot… that leaves deep mental trauma.” As the country continues to battle the dual forces of myths and medical delays, the gap in snakebite treatment remains a deadly and complex challenge.
