PREVAILNG FRAUDS IN NAME OF GMAT ONLINE BY EXAMITY

I embarked on my GMAT exam journey with high hopes, but what unfolded felt like a nightmare. Scheduled for 6 in the evening, my online GMAT experience began at 5 as I eagerly logged in and clicked on the "launch exam" option once available. This marked the start of a series of unexpected challenges and frustrations.

Upon entering the Zoom meeting through my browser, the proctor promptly took control of my laptop and requested me to download the Zoom app. Astonishingly, the app failed to download, despite my previous successful experiences with it. The proctor's insistence that my laptop was incompatible left me flustered, though I requested the chance to troubleshoot. Sadly, I had to rush to arrange an alternate laptop within 10 minutes, borrowing one from a friend.

The new laptop faced the same hurdle – a required software download preceded by turning off antivirus and firewall, all according to GMAT guidelines. What followed was a baffling dance of communication with the proctor. After several attempts, she quickly resolved the issue from her end, contradicting her initial claim of incompatibility.

This ordeal consumed an entire hour, and I finally re-entered the exam. Just as I dared to hope for smooth sailing, another obstacle arose. The proctor, now joined by another person, questioned my internet speed despite my previous checks and the proctor's own speed test, which showed a robust connection. The proctor's suggestion to restart my laptop and browser led to her providing a Zoom meeting link to save for later.

After adhering to her instructions, the proctor conducted another speed test, yielding the same results. Seemingly satisfied, they moved on to the check-in process. The methodology felt strange, asking questions through the Zoom meeting rather than an official software platform. The subsequent request to display my testing environment via webcam seemed straightforward, but suddenly, my webcam malfunctioned, turning off repeatedly without my intervention.

A restart was proposed, along with an ID to jot down on a whiteboard, and joining through that identifier. However, the webcam glitch persisted. Zoom's message that it wasn't functioning compounded the confusion. Over 90 minutes had elapsed by this point, and the proctor determined that we couldn't proceed further due to these ongoing issues.

Upon reflection, the entire experience starkly contrasted the clear process outlined on the exam provider's website. The proctors' demeanor oscillated between irritating and intimidating, which left me questioning the integrity of the entire endeavor. The financial investment, the dedication to preparation, and the emotional toll were all compromised.

This situation raises larger concerns about the validity of third-party proctoring services. Notably, esteemed institutions like Harvard, ISB, and Kellogg rely on these services, potentially overlooking the distress they can cause to aspirants. The intricate relationship between education, integrity, and business ethics comes into focus.

Considering the substantial fee paid for the exam, the absence of a viable alternative when Zoom fails is exasperating. It begs the question: do these practices truly align with the ethos of education these institutions promote? The "Beti Padhao, Beti Bachao" (Educate the Daughter, Save the Daughter) initiative seems at odds with the ordeal students like me endure.

Determined to expose this disheartening reality, I intend to raise awareness about the mismanagement and potential malpractice of entities like Examity. Moreover, I contemplate taking legal action to address the harm inflicted on me and likely others who share this ordeal. The educational system should be founded on integrity, transparency, and respect for hard work – values that appear compromised in the realm of remote proctoring.