The evening that a snake bit Mahfudin was one like any other. The sun had set behind Mount Lawu, to the west of Mahfudin\u2019s village in the central part of Java, Indonesia. Crickets chirped in the hedges. Goats bleated in a shed. An uneven path lit by two dim lamps led to Mahfudin\u2019s house: bare bricks and plywood on brown hardened earth, topped by a roof of dried palm leaves. He\u2019d built that house, and once he could afford it, he would paint the walls and tile the floor.<\/p>\n
That evening in December 2017, orchards and bamboo thickets melded into a shapeless black shroud around the house. Mahfudin\u2019s five-year-old nephew was crying in the living room. A biscuit from the shops would cheer the boy up, Mahfudin thought. He walked out the door, stepped on something soft, then jumped back in a jolt of pain. He slammed the door and looked down at the two puncture holes on his left ankle. \u201cA snake bit me!\u201d he shouted.<\/p>\n
Blood oozed from his wound. Mahfudin panicked. He had seen snakes around, and other villagers had been bitten. He tied a T-shirt tightly around his leg above the ankle, just like he\u2019d seen in a movie.<\/p>\n
Soon Mahfudin was vomiting blood, and then he passed out. His uncle got him to a nearby community clinic. There was just one nurse on duty and she didn\u2019t know what to do. So she cut small incisions on the bite wound hoping it would release some of the venom \u2013 then referred him to the larger district hospital.<\/p>\n
By the third day, Mahfudin was bleeding from every orifice. His faeces and urine ran red. The doctors were as bewildered as the nurse \u2013 nothing they did worked. That\u2019s when they called her. Maha, the snakebite doctor.<\/p>\n