Over the last three years, the rise of appetite-reducing injectables has revolutionised the weight loss industry. Medications that are licensed for weight management in the obese, like Wegovy and Mounjaro, and anti-diabetic medications like Ozempic have been linked to incredible Hollywood body transformations, while people talk breathlessly about a brave new world of effortless weight loss in a blizzard of videos on social media, extolling the virtues of these ‘miracle drugs’.
But there is now a worrying middle class black market springing up, where yummy mummies covertly pass dealer’s contact details to each other at dinner parties and the school gates. Illegal trading happens over WhatsApp and TikTok, with deliveries via Royal Mail or pick ups in supermarket car parks, with no regard for the health hazards from dangerously high doses and fake products.
Sophie Campbell-Duffy, a midwife and personal trainer (Sophie the Midwife PT) from Ashford in Kent, was shocked to discover her clients were buying the ‘skinny jabs’ on the black market. “I first heard about clients taking weight loss drugs they’d bought on the black market two years ago,” she says.
“As a PT and a midwife, my work is about supporting women through pregnancy and as they heal after birth. It’s a time when women are incredibly vulnerable, their bodies have often changed, they’re carrying extra weight, they’re tired.
“Then they see posts on TikTok and Instagram about drugs like Mounjaro. They’re desperate to lose weight and wouldn’t be prescribed them by the GP because they don’t meet the criteria. They just want a quick fix and now it’s so easy to get hold of.
“I know of women who have bought ‘skinny jabs’ online after contacting people who post in the comments of TikTok videos about weight loss drugs. Usually though, contacts are passed on through word of mouth,” says Sophie, who has been amazed at how widespread this illegal network of dealers has become, and how it’s entering middle class homes with no sign of any repercussions or attempt to prevent the sales.
“Women are even buying it through drug dealers who usually supply recreational class A drugs like cocaine, meeting the dealers in car parks for the handover. It’s so seedy and extremely dangerous.
“I’ve had training sessions where a client has been feeling unwell, lying on the floor with a pounding heart. I eventually got it out of them that they’d started using a ‘skinny jab’ – I had to stop the session. If clients take weight loss drugs unofficially, I can’t train them. It’s just not safe.
“People don’t realise the dangers because it’s so easy, it feels like everyone’s doing it.
“I’m not against weight loss drugs when they’re properly prescribed and as part of a programme of diet and exercise, but when they’re bought on the black market, there’s no medical guidance.”
Matt*, 49, a secondary school teacher from Kent, bought Ozempic from a dealer for six months, his descent into black market dealings rooted in weight issues that began when he was just a boy. “I’d struggled with my weight since childhood and tried so many diets over the years, as well as gastric band surgery,” he says. “But the pounds always came back.
“A couple of years ago, I vowed to make serious changes, join the gym, do more healthy home cooking. And then I heard about Ozempic, read up about it and decided to give it a go.
“At 16 stone, I was heavy but not heavy enough to be prescribed the drugs by my GP and I wasn’t diabetic either, so I didn’t even try.
“Initially, I bought Ozempic through an online pharmacy for around £200 per month. I didn’t suffer many side effects, just a bit of a headache and some constipation, so I moved up to the second dose.
“That’s when it really started to kick in. I was losing a kilogram a week. I had to go and buy new clothes – I went from an XL to a small. It was really exciting.
“Then, in June 2023, stories about Ozempic started hitting the headlines and the online chemist completely sold out and couldn’t get more supplies. They said they might not have more before Christmas.
“Panic set it. I’d come to rely on it and was enjoying my thinner life. Then, at a dinner party, a friend told me he was getting it on the black market and gave me the guy’s number. I dropped him a line on WhatsApp – I just had to say I was a friend of a friend – it was so simple.
“He said he could sell me Ozempic as long as I bought three batches at once. I just had to transfer him £800 up front.
“The parcel arrived by Royal Mail tracked delivery and the medication looked exactly the same as what I’d been using already. I kept buying from him for six months, until the online pharmacy restocked – it was unbelievably simple.”
Piroska Cavell, a former NHS midwife turned aesthetician who specialises in obesity and weight management, uses weight loss drugs in her practice in Margate, Kent to help clients kick-start a lifetime of healthy habits. “Unfortunately, although weight loss drugs are a medication, we’ve misaligned them with cosmetics and beauty,” she says. “People think, ‘I’m going on holiday so I’ll get some.’ It’s the ‘no carbs before Marbs’ mentality.
“There’s a combination of reasons why people are turning to the black market to get the medication including supply issues, the difficulty getting a GPs appointment and non-medics talking about weight loss pens on social media platforms like Instagram and Facebook.
“The black market contacts are often shared through word of mouth. For example, people in the gym will talk about and exchange contacts. Even drug dealers are selling it now.
“It’s quite a middle class thing. Seemingly, ‘Oh, it’s everyone just helping each other.’ But at the end of the day, it’s a medication. You need to be really careful with it.
“You end up with loads of women who don’t need these drugs all jabbing themselves with really quite potentially quite dangerous medication.
“When people buy weight loss drugs on the black market, they don’t start low, they buy the highest dose they can and stop eating altogether. Their blood sugars drop through the floor and they can put themselves in hypos. I know of several people who have been hospitalised because of that. You’re then into serious territory because you’re messing with your blood sugar and insulin.
“I had someone ring me once who said, ‘I bought one of these pens and it says it drops your blood sugar, so I’ve just been eating sugar.’
“I’ve heard of it arriving with no label, or the label is in Chinese or Korean – they still go ahead and inject it.
“There needs to be tougher legislation of the legitimate online portals too. They’re also open to abuse. A big concern is younger girls with disordered eating, we need to protect them.
“We’re in an age of instant gratification. Why can’t I just click my fingers and be a size 10? Well, you can’t.”
Daily Express columnist Dr Rosemary Leonard MBE warns, “When you are prescribed weight loss drugs, and pick them up from a registered pharmacy, you can be sure you are getting a drug produced in a highly regulated way, at a guaranteed dose. But that doesn’t apply if you buy it elsewhere. You really have no idea what you are being sent.
“There are no controls on black market drugs, and this means that they may not have any active ingredients, they may not be sterile, or may contain other substances that could be harmful, especially when given by injection.
“Not only that, but if you do happen to be given the active drug, no-one will warn you about potential side effects, such as severe nausea, vomiting, abdominal discomfort and even inflammation of the pancreas, or whether they are safe for you personally to use. They can be especially dangerous in people who are already malnourished from eating disorders.
“I had one patient who admitted buying what she thought was Ozempic on the black market. While she didn’t have any terrible side effects, neither did she lose any weight. She said it was the most expensive water she had ever bought! She got off lightly though – she could have been injecting herself with bleach for all she knew.”
*Matt’s name has been changed