She went to bed a rising star, rehearsing for her first solo concert, dreaming of bigger stages. By dawn, she was in a clinic that had no antivenom, then a hospital that had only half of what she needed to survive. Unable to speak, she tried to communicate with her hands as her breathing grew shallow and her friends watched, helpless, as time slipped away. Before the second antivenom could be found, her heart stopped.
In the days since, Abuja’s music community has been shattered. Videos show snakes dragged from her apartment, friends sobbing, colleagues posting tributes to a voice they believed would one day carry Nigeria to the world. Her death has ignited anger over how a preventable tragedy could claim such a young, promising life. Yet in the grief, people replay her auditions, her performances, her laughter — clinging to the echo of a talent stolen too soon.
