By By Marco Silva: For More Info, Go Here…
It’s late. I open WhatsApp and see a message from the dealer, claiming he can sell me deadly pills.
“Minimum order is 100g and it will cost you £150,” he says. “We package discreetly and ship from Douala, Cameroon.”
He wants to know where I am and how much I plan to order. I ask him whether the claims made on his page are to be believed: are his pills really lethal?
“It’s true, but I hope you really know what you want,” he says, “I just sell.”
He tells me in great detail how I should use his pills and what they will supposedly do to me. He doesn’t ask if I’ve sought help, try to dissuade me or make me think about the consequences my actions might have on my family and friends.
For him, this is just another transaction.
What he doesn’t know is that I have no intention of taking my own life – or even of buying the deadly chemical he claims to be selling.
I already know he is a scammer. For weeks, I have been following his every move, mapping his online presence and investigating his shadowy business dealings.