On red alert

‘Yaes!’ I’ll answer the phone in a falsetto Scottish accent. ‘Can ae help yay?’ If the voice is unfamiliar I lapse into Gaelic and slam down the receiver. This is my strategy for tackling a new wave of death threats being made against me. I have also taken to wearing funny hats, a stick-on moustache and a pirate’s eyepatch. Sometimes I will only leave the house in a burqa.

The threats are real and I take them seriously, though I am only joking about the disguises. I wish I could become an accountant and live in Plymouth, but it’s too late now. I am a hack. But my life has been on red alert since last month’s broadcast of my documentary about the bloodthirsty rule of Somalia’s government, financed by this Labour government using British taxpayers’ money. I’ve been told to beware of carjackings and house break-ins. I get another message that says ‘the monsters are planning to hire a hit squad to get rid of you for exposing them to the world.