The attestation system: A colonial legacy that still frustrates citizens

Illustration: TBS

M Hannan Sha, a graduate of Jagannath University, shuffled through a mountain of papers in a cramped photocopy shop. He was on the 10th set of photocopies, each requiring the precious stamp of a "first-class gazetted officer" for his university job application as a lecturer. 

"They want me to get everything stamped, even documents issued by my own university," he sighed, shaking his head. "I spent days tracking down an officer willing to help. It's just absurd."

Abir Mahmud, a law graduate, is in a similar bind. He has been knocking on doors, looking for someone in the civil service who can sign off on his Bar Council registration forms. When asked why attestation matters, he only shrugged in frustration, "Honestly, I don't think it does. It's just another form of harassment we have to bear."

The cost of this redundant process is more than just time and effort — some people even lose money along the way. 

Jahidul Islam, a human rights activist, recounted what he faced when trying to correct an error on his National ID. "I've been through a lot of trouble," he said with a sigh. "I had to get some documents attested. Unable to find anyone, I hired a broker. But the broker ended up swindling my money." 

My own experience is not any better. While enrolling at Dhaka University (DU), I was asked to attest all my photos and other documents. I was clueless about where to go. A friend of mine also faced the same issue. Luckily he had a relative among the teachers at the Fine Arts department, DU. So we went to him and he attested to our papers and photos. If that DU teacher attested my photos, not knowing me, why didn't the teachers at my department do this for me? I was confused and frustrated because of such pointless rules. 

These experiences are echoed across the country, where students and job seekers face a longstanding, seemingly unbreakable hurdle — the demand to have documents officially attested, no matter how minor. This colonial-era practice persists as a significant barrier to success, taking away time and adding costs and frustration to already challenging pursuits. In a nation actively embracing digitalisation, the continued requirement for attested documents seems redundant, yet it remains a staple of Bangladesh's bureaucracy.

A system out of sync with reality

The attestation process involves finding a high-ranking government officer or equivalent to sign off on different documents, each signature serving as an unofficial "seal of authenticity." Those who lack the personal connections to secure such help may have to pay for unofficial stamps or rely on counterfeit seals, further perpetuating a cycle of forgery and frustration.

For instance, Hannan had to gather over 180 attested documents just to apply for a faculty position at his university — an overwhelming ordeal. 

He describes the attestation process as "an unnecessary harassment" that creates more obstacles than it removes. For countless others, attestation has become synonymous with administrative purgatory.

Today, many government offices and universities in Bangladesh have access to online databases where they can directly verify an individual's credentials. However, the attestation system remains a physical process, dependent on seals, stamps, and signatures. 

Without access to a gazetted officer, applicants often have little choice but to turn to alternative solutions. Yasir Arafat, a recent graduate, recalls how his friends would buy counterfeit seals from Dhaka's Nilkhet, an ironic workaround for an antiquated rule meant to prevent fraud.

To many students, attestation-seeking is almost a ritual, albeit a humiliating one. Some have recounted feeling treated with contempt by officers as if they were requesting personal favours. 

A breeding ground for corruption and forgery

The stringent demands for attestation do not just frustrate applicants — they also open doors to corruption. 

Unable to meet the bureaucratic demands legitimately, some individuals turn to unethical practices, such as paying intermediaries for counterfeit stamps. The practice of false certification has become so commonplace that students often joke about it, with some seeing it as a necessary evil. In fact, fake attestation seals are so readily available that they have become an unofficial commodity, a troubling indicator of the desperation that students and job seekers experience.

One job applicant recounts the lengths his cousin went to for university admission. "He came to me with documents he needed attested and was furious when I refused to sign. In the end, he used a Tk50 fake seal from Nilkhet to 'attest to' everything himself," he admitted, noting the moral dilemma they faced. 

Reform efforts fall short

The call to end the attestation requirement is hardly new. For years, Bangladeshi citizens have highlighted the need to abolish this outdated system, noting that its primary outcome is to breed inconvenience and dishonesty. 

Critics argue that the attestation system is a colonial hangover that has long outlived its purpose, and it has now become a burden on students and job seekers, hampering rather than helping.

In neighbouring India, for instance, the government of West Bengal eliminated the need for document attestation in 2014, implementing a system of self-certification instead. By allowing individuals to certify their own documents, the state reduced the administrative burden on applicants and encouraged accountability. Bangladesh could benefit from a similar approach, particularly given the digital ecosystem developed over the years.

Back in 2015, the Bangladesh government announced plans to eliminate the attestation requirement for certain government job applications. Instead, applicants would present their original documents during interviews. 

While this change was a step forward, it remains inconsistently applied, with the attestation process still required for many other applications. This inconsistency has led some to question the commitment to truly phasing out the practice.

Technology vs tradition

Bangladesh's gradual shift toward digitalisation offers a pathway to overcoming the attestation hassle. With educational qualifications and personal data increasingly stored in accessible online databases, the need for physical attestation seems redundant. 

Some universities, such as Shahjalal University of Science and Technology, have successfully implemented digital admissions, while mobile alerts and online verification systems have made it possible to confirm credentials in real-time.

Also, online college admissions have been effective and could be used as a model for other sectors. By replacing physical attestation with online verification, the government could eliminate many of the issues currently plaguing students and job seekers.

A growing movement for change

Young Bangladeshis, weary of a system that treats them as suspects until proven otherwise, are beginning to advocate for a fairer process. Many are calling for police clearance certificates in place of attestation, arguing that these would provide a more thorough background check than an unrelated officer's signature. 

The Ministry of Public Administration has acknowledged the problem, with officials suggesting that the attestation requirement may be relaxed in non-sensitive sectors like education. However, scepticism remains, especially among students who have heard similar promises in the past.

As Bangladesh transitions into the digital age, many of its citizens are questioning the logic of an outdated system that fails to meet modern needs. The attestation requirement is more than a bureaucratic inconvenience; it's a reflection of a bureaucratic culture unwilling to let go of obsolete practices. With data verification tools readily available and successful digitisation initiatives already in place, the continued demand for physical attestation appears more and more unnecessary.