In recent weeks, a series of harrowing snakebite incidents across India has brought the dangers of human-snake conflict into sharp relief, exposing not only the escalating risks posed by urban expansion and environmental mismanagement but also the shortcomings of public healthcare in responding to such emergencies. As families in Uttar Pradesh, Karnataka, and West Bengal grapple with tragedy and financial hardship, experts and officials are sounding the alarm about the urgent need for systemic change.
On the night of August 17, 2025, in the quiet village of Karoda Mahajan in Muzaffarnagar district, Uttar Pradesh, tragedy struck the Singh family. According to The Times of India, 12-year-old Tamanna and her younger brother Paras, aged just seven, were bitten by a snake while they slept. Their mother, Pratima, woke around 2:30 am to find both children unconscious and a snake lurking in the corner of the room. In a frantic effort, she and her husband Rajesh Singh killed the snake and disposed of it in the fields. By daybreak, they rushed their children to Shamli Hospital, only to be told that both were already dead. In their desperation, the parents sought out exorcism rituals in nearby villages, clinging to hope, but ultimately returned home to cremate their children that evening, declining a postmortem examination as confirmed by local police officer Vikas Yadav.
Just hours later, a similar tragedy unfolded in Farrukhabad’s Bhudia Bheda village. Thirteen-year-old Meena, daughter of laborer Nitesh Kumar, was bitten while sleeping on her terrace around 4 am on August 19. Despite being rushed first to Rajepur Community Health Centre and then referred to District Lohia Hospital, she died during treatment that same morning.
These heart-wrenching stories are not isolated events. In Karnataka, the problem has taken on epidemic proportions. Health and Family Welfare Minister Dinesh Gundu Rao told the Legislative Council on August 11, 2025, that the state had recorded a staggering 13,235 snakebites and 100 deaths in 2024 alone, a dramatic rise from 6,596 bites and 19 deaths the previous year. The numbers have more than quadrupled since 2022, when 3,339 bites and 17 deaths were reported. Tumakuru district saw the highest death toll, while Hassan recorded the most snakebite cases, tallying 850 in 2024.
What’s driving this surge? According to Shivaraj, President of the Karnataka Snake Rescuers’ Union, the answer lies in rapid urbanization and poor waste management. As cities sprawl into traditional agricultural and forest lands—territories long inhabited by snakes—the reptiles are left with nowhere to go. “The rapid urbanisation across the state, where the people are expanding the residential and business area into traditional agricultural and forest area is the most important cause for increasing snake bites. These are the traditional territory of the snakes, and they will have nowhere to go. The conflict begins as the snakes are highly territorial,” Shivaraj told Deccan Herald.
Improper disposal of solid waste—coconut shells, milk packets, and other refuse—attracts rats, which in turn draw snakes into human settlements. “Naturally, the snakes come there to hunt rats and when the human beings go there in odd hours, they are vulnerable for snake bites,” Shivaraj explained. He also pointed out that the actual number of snakebites might be even higher if not for the work of more than 1,000 volunteer snake rescuers across Karnataka, each responding to at least five calls a day. “Since the rescuers are not from affluent backgrounds and are doing honorary jobs, the government should recognise their services and do something,” he added. Despite their efforts, these rescuers operate without official recognition or adequate support, and Shivaraj is calling for the creation of a dedicated human-snake conflict task force, similar to those established for tigers and elephants under the Wildlife Protection Act.
While Karnataka’s health minister assured legislators that anti-venom stocks are sufficient in all community, primary, and taluk health centers, the reality on the ground can be starkly different. In West Bengal, the ordeal of nine-year-old Somdeep Halder from Khosalpur village in Nadia district has become a symbol of the challenges faced by snakebite victims and their families. On August 14, 2025, Somdeep was bitten near a water body late at night. What followed was a frantic, 10-hour journey from one government facility to another, as his condition deteriorated and his family was repeatedly told that no ventilator or bed was available.
After an initial visit to a village quack, Somdeep’s parents took him to a small government healthcare unit in Bethuadahari, where blood tests confirmed the presence of snake venom. He was referred to Krishnanagar Sadar District Hospital and administered anti-venom, but his condition worsened. Doctors said he needed a ventilator, which wasn’t available. The family then traveled 170 kilometers to NRS Medical College and Hospital in Calcutta, only to be told again that no ventilator was available. In desperation, they admitted him to Peerless Hospital, a private facility, where he was put on ventilation and given multiple doses of anti-venom. “He was gasping and was on the verge of respiratory arrest when he was brought to the hospital,” said Dr. Sanjukta De, clinical director of pediatrics at Peerless Hospital, as reported by The Telegraph. The neurotoxic venom had paralyzed Somdeep’s respiratory muscles and diaphragm. After 24 hours of ventilation, he was stable, but the hospital bill had already reached nearly ₹2 lakh—an astronomical sum for his day laborer father, who was forced to borrow money from neighbors and relatives.
A health department official later stated that ventilators were available at the government hospitals Somdeep had visited, and an investigation was underway into why he was not admitted there. The incident has raised pressing questions about the accessibility and reliability of lifesaving care in public hospitals, especially for the rural poor.
These tragedies underscore a broader national crisis. Snakebites are a persistent threat in India, particularly during the monsoon season, when both snakes and humans are more likely to come into contact. The World Health Organization identifies India as one of the countries with the highest rates of snakebite deaths worldwide. While anti-venom is generally available, delays in treatment, lack of transport, and inadequate facilities can turn a survivable bite into a fatality—especially for children, who are more vulnerable to venom’s effects.
As urbanization advances and natural habitats shrink, the number of snake-human encounters is expected to rise. Experts warn that without better urban planning, improved waste management, and robust healthcare infrastructure, preventable deaths will continue. The appeals from snake rescuers for official recognition and government support highlight the need for a coordinated response, not just from health authorities but from environmental and municipal bodies as well.
For now, families like the Singhs, Kumars, and Halders are left to mourn, cope with financial ruin, and hope that their tragedies will spur change. The silent, slithering threat of snakebites demands not just vigilance, but real action—before more lives are lost in the shadows of India’s rapid development.
