Costly lessons for Indians in Australia

By Amy Kazmin in New Delhi

Published: June 23 2009 16:48 | Last updated: June 23 2009 16:48

A Punjab protest over attacks on students in Australia

Like most young Indians going overseas, Pooja Thakur was excited about new opportunities when she went to Australia last year for graduate studies.

Although the A$30,000 ($23,700, €17,000, £14,500) fee seemed hefty, Ms Thakur, 22, whose father is a schoolmaster, was assured by education agents in Ahmedabad, her home town, that she could earn enough to cover it and A$900 in monthly living expenses through part-time work. “I wanted to learn more and see the world,” she recalls.

Yet almost 18 months into her sojourn, Ms Thakur is filled with regret. Her first semester was spent in a disappointing accountancy course pushed hard by an agent but filled only with other students from India and China.

She has since switched to a mainstream MBA programme but money remains a constant worry. Unable to find a job for six months, she now spends five hours a day selling electricity plans door-to-door, earning just enough for living expenses.

The Rs1.5m ($30,000, €22,000, £18,900) bank loan her family took out to finance her studies weighs heavily. “I realise I made a huge mistake,” Ms Thakur says. “I should have studied in universities in India.”

Disillusionment is not unique among Australia’s Indian students, whose frustration spilled into public view during street protests triggered by attacks on their compatriots.

Shortage of places

Puneet Singh, a 25-year-old pursuing a master’s degree in accounting, opted for Australia’s Latrobe University, because as an “average student” working part-time at a restaurant, he felt he had “no chance” of attending a top-ranked university at home Competition for India’s elite universities is fierce, with many people spending huge sums on coaching for the arduous entry exams. “There are so many good students, and they work so hard,” Mr Singh said. “It’s not always possible for others to compete with them.”

Addressing India’s shortage of higher education opportunities is one of the biggest priorities of India’s new government. Under 10 per cent of college-age students are enrolled in higher education.

The National Knowledge Commission wants the gross enrolment ratio in higher education raised to 15 per cent through opening 1,500 new universities in the next few years. More than 20m Indians reach college age each year.

To Mr Singh, who drives a taxi three nights a week to finance his Australian studies, a second-tier Indian university was simply not an appealing option. “I don’t think companies will take you if you come out from [one of] them,” he said.

Although the protests focused on safety and policing, Gautum Gupta of the Federation of Indian Students in Australia says they reflected deep disgruntlement among the students, many of whom feel they came to Australia under false pretences and are now stuck in uninviting jobs.

“They are feeling helpless, stuck in a system where they can’t move forward or backward,” Mr Gupta says. “If they are unhappy and want to go back, it’s not an option. They have already invested all the money and they can’t go back without losing a lot.”

India has an acute shortage of high-quality university places, creating intense competition for admission, and Indian elites have long sent their children for higher studies abroad, mainly to the US and UK.

Australia has also received a huge influx of Indian students, many from middle-class, small-town families who take large loans to finance their progeny’s overseas venture. From 13,000 in 2003, Australia’s Indian student population has soared to 96,000, close to the number of Indian students in the US.

In their quest for upward mobility, young Indians are encouraged by agents who receive commissions from Australian education institutions for each student they recruit. Commissions range from 10 per cent of the tuition fee for top-ranked public universities to 25 per cent for private universities and up to 45 per cent from the lowest-level vocational schools.

Less than a third of Indian students in Australia are enrolled in traditional degree programmes. The vast majority are in vocational institutions, sometimes just two or three rooms in an office block, obtaining skills such as commercial cookery, hairdressing and automotive repair: agents tout these programmes as advantageous towards obtaining permanent residency.

Australian authorities have tried to promote ethical conduct among education agents, backing creation of the Association of Australian Education Representatives in India, whose members promise “to provide accurate and realistic counselling” on cost, courses and work prospects.

Gulshan Kumar, the association’s president, says numerous unaffiliated agents are pushing low-quality education institutions and painting unrealistically sunny pictures of Australia, especially its job market. Many such agents also supplement their commissions by taking huge fees from the students, adding to their debt burden.

“They are not purely dealing with education – they are doing it as a business. I would even term it as human smuggling,” Mr Kumar says.

Australian authorities should crack down on the proliferation of “shoddy” education companies, Mr Kumar believes

In a tacit recognition of a system seemingly out of control, Julia Gillard, Australia’s minister for education, said last week her government would review urgently the legal framework governing its A$14bn foreign education business.

Such measures, however, will offer little consolation to the current crop of students, many of whom are living in cheap housing in Melbourne’s crime-ridden western suburbs, and working part-time in jobs such as night shifts at petrol pumps that leave them vulnerable to violent crime.

“They are basically importing cheap labour, for cooking, cleaning and driving cabs, in the guise of education,” says Mr Gupta. “It’s a masterstroke.”