The Pandemic’s Silent Career Casualties

That’s the no-man’s land many graduates of the COVID years find themselves in—left behind by a world that has seemingly moved on. While the rest of the country debates moon missions and startup booms, there exists a silent generation still stuck at the starting line, scouring LinkedIn for entry-level jobs that no longer exist, and falling prey to an exploitative ecosystem thriving on false hope.

 

During the pandemic, college placements vanished overnight. Offer letters were revoked. Careers that had barely begun came to a halt. And now, nearly half a decade later, what remains is a gaping hole—one that private training and placement institutes have rushed in to fill. These aren’t your standard coaching centres. They operate in the grey—promising plum tech jobs, experience certificates, and quick-fix career makeovers, all for a fee and your original degree certificates as collateral.

 

Rohan (name changed), a B.Tech graduate from Jamshedpur after completing his industrial training with Tata Motors led nowhere after the pandemic. By 2023, approaching 30 and still unemployed, he turned to five such institutes in Chennai. They dangled backend developer roles in top firms with ₹16 LPA salaries. All he had to do was pay ₹1.2 lakh upfront—and hand over his original certificates. Today, he’s still chasing interviews, unpaid internships, and living in fear of HR audits. His documents? Locked away in an office drawer.

 

Then there’s Pooja, a young mother from Hyderabad with a BCA degree. After a two-year career break, she was told she’d never be considered unless she “fixed the gap.” An institute “rebranded” her—rewrote her resume, coached her, fabricated her experience timeline. She’s employed now, but lives under constant anxiety.

 

The worst-hit are those who neither fit the mould of a fresher nor the comfort of experience. One electrical engineer, now 31, travelled south for a job training program—only to end up depressed, isolated, and betrayed. “I had dengue, I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t talk to anyone due to language. I kept asking about my placement—they finally said, ‘We only train, we don’t guarantee jobs.’”

 

And yet, the price tags are all too real:

• ₹20,000 for admission
• ₹50,000 per interview (after an offer letter)
• ₹1 lakh for an “experience certificate”
• Another ₹1 lakh post-placement as “success fees”

 

The institutes don’t sign contracts. They communicate through vague promises. “Placement depends on the candidate,” one helpdesk executive told me, conveniently avoiding any written assurance.

 

This isn’t a one-off scam. It’s a systemic rot. A survival economy built on the backs of pandemic graduates too desperate to question, too exhausted to resist. What should have been a temporary setback has become a career death sentence for many—unless, of course, they pay.

 

Where are the regulators? Where are the safeguards? Why is it so easy to open an institute that takes degrees hostage in the name of employability?

 

COVID-era graduates don’t need fabricated resumes or illegal shortcuts. They need bridges back into the workforce. They need structured returnship programs, flexible apprenticeships, re-skilling pathways, and, most importantly, recognition from the system that they failed—and still are.

 

Until then, these shadow networks will thrive. Not because they’re invisible. But because we’ve chosen to look away.

 

Bio: Nibedita is an independent journalist honoured by the Government of India for her contributions to defence journalism.She has been an Accredited Defence Journalist since 2018, certified by the Ministry of Defence, Government of India.  With over 15 years of experience in print and digital media, she has extensively covered rural India, healthcare, education, and women’s issues. Her in-depth reporting has earned her an award from the Government of Goa back to back in 2018 and 2019. Nibedita’s work has been featured in leading national and international publications such as The Jerusalem Post, Down To Earth, Alt News, Sakal Times, and others.