Vyapam scam: Here's what it takes to lure exam frauds

By Rohini Mohan

In the thick of Lucknow’s Nawal Kishore Marg, the watering hole for girls and boys preparing for competitive entrance exams, lies the Comfort Hostel. Upstairs, in an uncomfortably cramped room smelling of sweat and recently eaten egg fried rice, five boys sat discussing a solved question paper. One of them, a thin, clean-shaven young man with frameless glasses, had appeared thrice in the Uttar Pradesh medical entrance exam (UP CPMT) for someone else.

He spoke on the condition his real name would not be revealed. “Otherwise I’ll also be Vyapam-ed,” he said in Hindi, referring to the over 50 mysterious deaths and 1,900 arrests of people accused of involvement in the admission scam in Madhya Pradesh. Abhay, 21, hails from Gorakhpur town. When he was 17, he first wrote the CPMT for a student he had never met. An agent paid him Rs 60,000.

The next two times, he got Rs 1 lakh apiece. As the Vyapam scam unravels, whistleblowers like Indore-based Dr Anand Rai have revealed several cheating methods. Agents and officials, in collusion with politicians, organise tampering of hall tickets, leak question papers, arrange favourable seating for copying, recruit pliant invigilators, and facilitate exchange of money. But at the centre of this vortex of admission illegality are bright MBBS students who crack the exams on behalf of aspiring students. They have many names: impersonators, scorers, imposters.

The Madhya Pradesh Special Task Force (MP STF) has detained over three dozen students from colleges across UP, many of whom are imposters. MP STF AIG Ashish Khare said they found imposters in coaching centres and medical colleges across the state. In Lucknow, they arrested 12 MBBS students from the prestigious King George’s Medical University (KGMU). KGMU’s chief proctor Dr SN Kureel said he expelled the detained students from the hostel, and suspended them from the university. “They got into prestigious colleges because of their brains, and I don’t understand why they want to sell it for a few thousand rupees.”

What, Me Worry?

Abhay, surprisingly, seems unafraid. “These arrests are for the MP medical test, not UP,” he said. “I won’t get caught if I stop now.” This year, he is writing the All India pre-medical test (AIPMT) for himself. “Abhay will surely get admission, he has a lot of practice!” his friend teases. But this time, he might not have agents supplying leaked question papers or invigilators who will allow him a trip to the toilet during the exam. Outside the hostel, students have crammed the lanes and bylanes to chase their engineering, medical and railway recruitment dreams. Every tree and electric pole is adorned with posters advertising institutes and teachers like “KD Singh” offering Physics, and “Raghuvanshi Sir” offering Zoology lessons. “Come with Hope, Go with Confidence,” is Nitesh Sir’s motto.

Devendra Yadav, a middle-aged father, is on a tour of the coaching centres. In his village in Barabanki, Yadav owns 5 acres of farmland, a dozen cows, and an English-medium school called St. Philomena’s. He wants his only daughter to be a doctor “because I only studied till the seventh standard.”
In Aakash Institute, a reputed coaching centre, Yadav handed the administrator his daughter’s 9th standard marksheet. The administrator spent 10 minutes explaining that to clear the PMT, she needed to improve her Science scores. She could enrol in an after-school classroom course at Aakash.

“Aur koi tareeka nahin hai? (Isn’t there another way?)” Yadav asked. It would have passed off as an innocent question had Yadav not dropped his voice, and added, “We are well-off.” He pointed to the large vinyl hoardings with pictures of smiling toppers alongside a sign that read ‘tips for success’. “You have so many rankholders,” Yadav said. “You must do something extra.”

Later, the administrator said he was used to parents openly enquiring about illegal methods in competitive exams. “Vyapam kya naya hai? Uttar Pradesh ne toh ye tareeke rattke kha liye. (What’s new in the Vyapam scam? Uttar Pradesh has perfected cheating systems.)”

This year, more than a lakh students wrote the UP state medical entrance for just 1,034 MBBS seats (See What Breeds ...). Pallavi, 17, whose face was plastered across hoardings in Lucknow for clearing the UP CPMT with a high rank, said, “Some professions have become a craze; there is so much competition that people are desperate.” Aakash’s administrator worried that former rankholders were now being lured. “We put out ads with toppers’ photos so that it inspires other students, but some people use it as a scouting database for potential imposters.”

Incredibly, this furore is for tests that provide admissions in government colleges only. Government fees are only a fifth of the capitation fees private colleges demand, and the teaching hospitals give the students crucial exposure to different sorts of patients.

The very race to make the cut also imbues the government college MBBS with more market value, therefore increasing the demand for them. This heavily skewed environment, in a way, fosters the corruption.

Growing Demand

It’s clear the demand for imposters is rampant. But given the risks, why do the smart students do it? “What I did funded one year of my coaching. It will also pay for my MBBS,” Abhay said. His father was a compounder in a private hospital, and his mother sold puja items outside a temple. “I needed the money.”

Varanasi-born Shahnawaz is halfway through his MBBS in Lucknow, and impersonated a student two years ago. When the MP STF arrested his peers, he panicked. “I regret risking my career,” he said. “But my father is going to retire soon, MBBS is nearly 6 years, add another few years for MD or MS before I can start to earn, so I thought…”

Dr SC Tiwary, chief medical superintendent at KGMU, said most imposters seemed to be students from poor to lower middle class backgrounds. “It is painful to put effort and deliver a seat for someone else. They must feel the pressure for money if they do this,” he said. Dr Kureel was less charitable. “It’s immorality. No one is incorruptible, only the price is different. So now we have the worthy supporting the unworthy to get into the healthcare system… what a shame!”

But the clinching reason could be the culture of impunity. “So many do it, so few get caught because the big guns are involved,” said Shahnawaz. Last year, a coaching teacher offered Pallavi Rs 1.5 lakh to be an imposter.

It is unclear if she accepted, but what is clear is who she holds responsible. “The imposters are also teenagers, you know?” she said. “We face pressure from parents, from society. The police should catch the big fish, fix the system. Don’t blame only us kids if the hospitals are full of people who don’t know a heart from a lung.”

(Student names changed on request)