YOUNG Jeejan Gangadharan studies medicine in south Russia, at Rostov University, overlooking the picturesque Black Sea. He spends $80 every month, has access to over 35 state libraries, and eats aloo-chapati in kitchens set up by other homesick students. Content in this all-work-and-some-play atmosphere, he was unprepared for the shadow the Medical Council of India (MCI) cast over his future.
Anticipating the rush of Indian students this year to medical colleges in the states of former USSR (now CIS), the MCI, a few weeks back, flashed a notice in all major newspapers across the country. "The matter of recognition of degrees granted by 29 medical institutions in the countries of the former USSR is currently under review," read the notice. "No private agency has been authorised by the Medical Council of India or the Government of India to select students for admission in under-graduate or postgraduate courses in medicine in the countries which earlier comprised the USSR. Therefore, students, and their guardians/ parents, seeking admission during 1997-98 in the 29 recognised medical institutions located in these countries are advised to await a final decision which shall be duly publicised. The students approaching private agencies and taking up medical courses will be doing so entirely at their own risk and the MCI shall not be responsible for any consequences arising from such an action. MCI will not be granting registration to students who obtain admissions to these institutes on their own without awaiting the announcement of its decisions. Consequently, such students will not be eligible to practice medicine in India."
But buried, in some cases, in the tenders section of the newspapers, the warning has gone unnoticed. Some agents confirm desperate students have already enrolled for the academic year starting September (extended to October for late applicants), while others have resorted to aggressive counter-advertising. One lures those "interested in MBBS/BDS admissions to a high-ranking, internationally recognised medical university in south Russia where already more than 100 Indian students are studying". Agents in Mumbai and Delhi are offering "medical graduation recognised by the MCI and the World Health Organisation". Disha agency splattered ads offering admissions in 14 institutes spread over Uzbekistan and cities like Odessa, Kiev and Almatty. These agents are reluctant to discuss the derecognition issue. Two agents of the same firm had different reports—one claimed to have missed the bus due to late authorisation, while the other boasts of having sent 90 students to Russia. Some said a high 70 per cent marks was required for admission and that non-performing students were sent back, whereas according to the MCI even students who fail get admission.
Invariably, agents flaunt MCI and WHO "recognitions" to reassure unsure applicants. This despite the fact that WHO is not a licensing authority and that MCI is keenly waiting to derecognise these institutes since "the Planning Commission has noted a glut of physicians in India". Says a Delhi-based WHO representative: "Private agents are not authorised to use the WHO label. But only local governments can tackle this blatant malpractice. We reply to queries on the genuineness of a university." But WHO refers to the outdated World Directory of Medical Schools (1988) which does not include MCI's recent plan to derecognise the 29 medical institutions in CIS countries. But, says the WHO representative, this is unlikely to deter determined students who may use their degrees for plum posts in the Middle East.
On their part, CIS countries welcome foreign students. Earlier, medical universities in the former USSR were state-funded, and so provided free education. That changed after the splinter, and with universities becoming autonomous, funding became more difficult. Students from developing countries are welcome, since they pay in precious US dollars. The RBI's relaxation of rules on foreign exchange for students has also made it easier for Indian students to apply for this currency, in demand in a state where the rouble is in trouble.
For the students, says one agent, those enamoured of a foreign degree are aware the US has slammed its door on their faces, with groups like the American Medical Association complaining publicly about the "oversupply of physicians". "Indian students seeking admissions in professional colleges face visa problems since immigration officials know it will be a one-way ticket. After studying with advanced facilities, they will not want to return to India," she adds.
IN the circumstances, students prefer CIS universities where admission rules are also lax. There are no admission tests,says Manish Arora, representative of Fam India, which boasts sending 500 students to Ukraine annually. And even if there are tests, they're only token, and are no real examination of a student's intelligence. Even students with a low 60 per cent in physics, chemistry and biology (PCB), who cannot dream of a seat in professional colleges here, are assured of admission provided they shell out Rs 4 lakh to Rs 5 lakh. Interestingly, says Arora, most students rushing to CIS countries hail from the southern states or from regions where the reservation quota is particularly discouraging. The fee is low, much lower than the almost Rs 20 lakh charged by a private medical college in India. It's a fraction of the cost of medical education in developed countries, though CIS states boast of excel -lent faculty and facilities, with specialised courses in nuclear medicine.
Besides, students are not required to make a one-time payment, as is required in some developed countries but can split up payment conveniently. In most cases, hostel facilities are free, says T.K. Gangadharan who, influenced by the enthusiasm displayed by son Jeejan, decided to set up an agency himself. Arora, too, has his sister studying in Ukraine. Chancellors and vice-chancellors of Rostov University visited India to talk about their courses. "We know about the MCI's derecognition plans. But following meetings with some CIS state representatives, a few of the universities have been granted recognition again. Rostov, along with institutions in Moscow and St Petersburg, is among these," says Gangadharan.
But having discovered "irregularities" in these admissions, the MCI is equally adamant about its stand. Listing such irregularities, one MCI source says: "Even students in arts and commerce are admitted, though they are not eligible. We ask for a minimum of 50 per cent marks in PCB. This is not followed, and students with as low as 35 to 45 per cent marks get admission. " Some agents pack off desperate students under a visitor's visa, letting them seek admission themselves. When found out, these students are returned to India, and, says one agent, "sometimes an agent takes a lumpsum from the student, and lives off the interest while the student cools his heels."
In the late '80s, the MCI had, following an MOU with the former USSR, recognised 29 institutions, accepted the degrees of students who enrolled for an eight-year graduation (including a six-year course, with one additional year for studying the Russian language, and a year's internship to be completed either in India or the USSR) and three-year post-graduation. Last year, the MCI toughened its stand on this, insisting the students follow the Indian internship schedule and not CIS ones.
"But," adds the MCI source, "we found students defaulting even here. Some universities had just a five-year course, though it was meant to be a six-year one. We had recognised 29 institutions and found that agents had included over 50 others we did not know anything about. Students admitted into recognised varsities continued in unrecognised ones and just before returning to India, switched again to recognised institutes. Several such frauds surfaced. How can we recognise the degrees of such students? Then we realised that these students started approaching MPs and other influential people, so that MCI ended up wasting its time on these students and their problems."
The issue has been discussed threadbare with the secretaries of health, education and human resources. But it has got stuck at the external affairs ministry which is worried about India's rapport with the CIS states. The continuing snafu is likely to keep many young hearts shaky. Only the agents seem to be having a field day.
