Kerala's 'Ghost College' Scandal: CPM Leaders Face Accusations of Widespread Financial Misappropriation

There's a cloud of disappointment hanging over Kannur, Kerala, as a significant financial scandal unfurls, drawing in local leaders of the Communist Party of India (Marxist), or CPM. At the heart of it all lies the promise of a grand educational institution, a college, that, despite collecting lakhs of rupees from thousands of hopeful individuals, has simply vanished into thin air. For many, what was once a beacon of educational opportunity has become little more than a "ghost college," leaving investors feeling deeply betrayed.

The story begins, somewhat innocuously, back in 2015. It was then that the North Malabar Educational Society was established in Iritty, spearheaded by local CPM office-bearers. The stated goal? To build a college. Now, why the sudden push for a new institution? Well, it appears there was a concern that students attending 'Pragati,' a parallel tutorial college run by Hindu Aikya Vedi leader Valsan Thillankeri, might be subtly influenced by a Hindutva ideology. So, the CPM-backed society stepped in, aiming to offer an alternative, a secular haven for higher learning, or so it was presented.

With this noble cause in mind, the society embarked on a widespread fundraising drive. They weren't shy about it, selling shares to party workers, sympathetic investors, and ordinary citizens across various tiers – from a substantial ₹1,00,000 all the way down to ₹1,000. People, many of them loyal party cadres, poured their hard-earned money into this venture, often seeing it as an investment in both their future and the party's vision. We're talking about more than 6,000 individual receipts here, each representing a leap of faith. Take Thomas Joseph, for instance, a former CPM local committee member, who invested ₹25,000 back in 2016, believing in the project wholeheartedly.

The project certainly started with a flourish. A grand launch event for the society was held in Iritty in 2017, generating quite a buzz and bolstering confidence. Yet, despite this auspicious beginning, years have slowly, inexorably, ticked by. As of today, nearly a decade after the society's formation and nine years since that celebratory launch, the college remains a figment of the imagination. No buildings, no classrooms, no students. Just a gaping void where a promised institution should be.

Naturally, patience has worn thin. The growing frustration among the affected investors and party workers is palpable. Over 1,000 individuals, a significant number by any measure, have banded together, compiling detailed complaints with solid documentary evidence. These grievances have been formally submitted to the higher echelons of the CPM leadership, demanding accountability. Their message is clear: either operationalize the college as promised, or return their capital, every last rupee of it.

When pressed on the issue, the CPM leadership has offered assurances, claiming that the collected funds are "secure" and that land, supposedly equal to or even exceeding the value of the capital raised, has been acquired by the society. However, these reassurances ring hollow for the increasingly skeptical investors. They're asking for proof – not just words. Where is this land? What are the title documents? Until tangible evidence is presented, until they can see the plots and paperwork with their own eyes, these claims feel, well, rather unconvincing. The questions linger, casting a long shadow over the integrity of those involved and leaving many to wonder if their dreams of a new college, and their investments, are forever lost in the realm of the ethereal.