“We trusted him with everything… my son’s future, our life savings. And he just vanished.”
Durga Rao sat on the edge of a rusted iron chair in Srikakulam’s police station, his voice trembling as he held up a photocopy of his son’s admission letter to Astana Medical University.
His wife, silent beside him, hadn’t spoken a word since they landed back from Kazakhstan.
This wasn’t just another scam. It was betrayal on an emotional level, where aspirations met cold deceit.
The Man with All the Answers
Gangadhar Harish wasn’t your average shady middleman.
He looked the part, clean-shaven, polished shoes, and brochures that looked legit. His consultancy, GGN International, was parked right beside Srikakulam’s Polytechnic College.
A perfect hunting ground, if you think about it.
“Why spend a crore here, sir, when you can become a doctor in Kazakhstan for just ₹30-35 lakh, hostel and food included?”
That’s how he pitched it. Harish spoke the language of middle-class India—value for money, return on investment, and most importantly, a chance.
Students came from Hyderabad, Karimnagar, and Vizianagaram. Word spread fast.
Harish had “contacts,” he said, and he even arranged the first trip to Astana. For many, it felt real. The classrooms, the labs, the foreign air.
Durga Rao, a small businessman from Etcherla mandal, paid ₹45 lakh for his two children.
“He showed us receipts, offered us video calls from students already there… how were we to know?” he later told reporters.
Cracks in the Facade
The honeymoon phase didn’t last long.
By the time the second year rolled around, the university began asking questions.
Fees weren’t paid. Documents weren’t in order. Students were confused. Harish, who was once hyper-responsive on WhatsApp, started replying with one-liners.
“Working on it, bro.”
“They’re taking time this year.”
“Don’t worry, all set.”
But everything was not all set.
One by one, students were expelled. No explanation. No clarity. And when they tried calling Harish from Kazakhstan?
Switched off.
By the time some of them managed to return home, reality had sunk in—they had been duped. Big time.
The Chase Begins
Local police stations began seeing a pattern. Parents from different districts were filing eerily similar complaints.
That’s when the lookout notice was issued.
Harish, perhaps sensing the net closing in, tried to flee the country. But Delhi airport immigration had other plans. He was stopped, questioned, and arrested.
The Srikakulam cops took over from there.
One officer, speaking to the press under anonymity, said:
“We were shocked at how many students he trapped. The total fraud amount just from this area could cross ₹2 crore. And that’s just what we know for now.”
The Bigger Picture
This isn’t a one-off case. The medical admission consultancy space is a loosely regulated gray zone.
For every legitimate agency, there are five more running scams, armed with forged documents, staged testimonials, and emotional sales pitches.
Astana Medical University is a real place. But when students go there under pretenses—with unpaid fees and fake promises—they’re the ones who pay the price.
Sometimes, literally with their future.
So, What Now?
Parents are demanding their money back.
Some students are looking to reapply elsewhere if they can muster the financial and mental strength again.
Harish remains in custody, but whether justice will be swift… that’s a whole different story.
If there’s one thing this scam reminds us of, it’s this:
Not all that glitters is MBBS abroad.
