Radhika, a candidate who appeared for DSC came with her husband and child to meet the Chief Minister, YS Jagan Mohan Reddy, seeking justice. Her story, as she’s told it, starts with a promise. She paid for a Mega DSC teacher’s post inside the sports quota that falls under Minister Nara Lokesh’s department, but the job never showed up while another person named Vemula Radhakrishna, who paid along with her got a school assistant posting in the Krishna district.
She went to the police after that. Then, this week, she went to Jagan.
The details she’s given are specific, almost uncomfortably so. A sports-quota School Assistant post in Prakasam. Money handed over. Results announced. Two other candidates appointed in the meantime. At some point, she says, a district collector’s name entered the conversation. And then the story around her changed shape suddenly there was “an issue,” suddenly an exam was required after all, suddenly her chances were gone. The relative who’d stood as go-between, meanwhile, already had his job.
Back in April 2025, two government orders introduced a 3 percent sports quota reservation, allowing meritorious sportspeople to skip the competitive exam altogether. That window stayed open for a little over a year. Then, in May 2026, another order quietly shut it—the exam requirement was back. In between, by Jagan’s count, 372 teachers were appointed without ever sitting the DSC exam. A national archery gold medalist, Anigi Durgaiah, reportedly didn’t make the cut. Others got in on the strength of participation certificates from sports associations run by TDP office-bearers.
You don’t have to take Radhika’s word for anything to find that timeline strange. A quota that opens for exactly long enough to be used, then closes—that’s not really a story about missed paperwork. It’s a story about a door that was propped open on purpose.
There’s a second complaint sitting alongside hers, and it rhymes uncomfortably. At his briefing, Jagan brought up another case roughly ₹14.5 lakh, allegedly moved through a bank account, tied to a promised sports-quota posting that never came through. When the post didn’t materialize, the story goes, there was a consolation offer of a job in AP Tourism instead. An FIR was filed back in November. Nobody’s been arrested. And according to Jagan, the complaint itself was never even logged as being about DSC recruitment it went down on paper as a tourism job dispute.
Radhika’s version has the same texture. She says she went to the police and got nowhere with an officer she names Medikonduru Nagireddy. A case eventually landed in Guntur. Still, she says, no justice. Same broad shape as the other case: a WhatsApp number, a government emblem used as someone’s profile picture, talk of ₹15 lakh changing hands for a posting, an FIR where the accused is listed only as a “suspect,” and a quick release on station bail after some calls were made up the chain.
Two money trails. Two FIRs that seem to have quietly stalled. And one name that keeps surfacing in both is not as an accused, but as the reason the money was supposedly worth paying in the first place.
This is really the heart of why “that was the last government’s problem” doesn’t land anymore. The state’s answer to the whole DSC controversy has mostly been Group-I, an SIT report, and a string of press appearances. But Radhika isn’t asking about a selection process from years ago. She’s asking about a recruitment drive running right now, under the current Education Minister, where she says her own money went missing into somebody’s pocket.
Lokesh can say the process is digital now. He can point out that a man named Naveen Purama allegedly skipped some verification step. He can call the sports quota a well-meant policy. All of that might even be true. What’s harder to wave away is everything sitting alongside it — a Rank-1 result tied to an outsourced SCERT employee, 372 appointments that never touched an exam, a government order that opened and shut like a trapdoor, and now a woman from Ongole standing in an opposition office saying she paid for a job that was never hers. Some of that lives in the government’s own gazettes. Some of it lives in her bank statements. Some of it lives inside a cyber-crime FIR that, by her account, never once uses the word DSC. Jagan told her she’d get justice.
