This Broken System of Ours
Nearly $1 million.
That is what the Kwantlen Student Association paid in wages and benefits to elected representatives in 2025, according to financial statements reported by The Runner. The figure exceeded the budget by more than $230,000 and dwarfed compensation levels at comparable student associations across British Columbia.
At any institution funded by mandatory student fees, numbers like these demand scrutiny. What students have received instead, many say, is silence.
For years, concerns about governance and spending at the KSA have circulated quietly among staff, former participants, and engaged students. Some describe the experience as watching a car accident in slow motion warning signs appeared, concerns were raised privately, yet little changed.
Part of the frustration, according to multiple people familiar with the organization’s internal dynamics, is that complaints and questions have often been met not with transparency but with procedural delay, non-responses, or referral to legal counsel. The result, critics argue, is that an organization funded by students appears at times to be using those same funds to insulate itself from the scrutiny of its own membership.
This perception is reinforced when senior leadership declines to answer legitimate questions from student journalists. Neither previous KSA presidents Paramvir Singh nor Ishant Goyal, nor Executive Director, Timothii Ragavan, ever seem to respond to tough questions or requests for comment from students or The Runner (who themselves are students) regarding the dramatic increase in compensation or alleged potential misappropriations or conflicts of interest. Silence may be technically permissible, but in a student-funded organization it ought to carry consequences. Accountability that exists only on paper is not accountability at all.
Questions about management effectiveness have also surfaced in public reporting and private discussions. Former Student Services Manager Yakshit Shetty, who has been mentioned in connection with civil litigation reported by The Runner, was widely described by some staff, speaking privately, as completely ineffective in the role. Whether fair or not, such perceptions matter in any organization that depends on trust and credibility. The same criticisms are privately circulated between staff about Timothii Ragavan (who we’ve been told by multiple sources rarely shows up to the office or follows up on any significant mandates that don’t involve blind support for what the board’s unilateral mandate seems to be).
More broadly, critics argue that the KSA has increasingly come to resemble a closed network rather than a representative body. Over several election cycles, hiring and electoral outcomes have, in the view of some observers, drawn heavily from a narrow circle of candidates and friendly associates, raising concerns about whether the association still reflects the diversity of the student body it represents. When participation in elections is low, even small, organized groups can exert outsized influence year after year. We have heard that the Kwantlen Student Association has effectively become an Indian international student jobs program from numerous confidential sources.
Former insiders also describe a system that perpetuates itself. Chief Returning Officers perceived as sympathetic to incumbent leadership, hiring decisions that reinforce existing networks, and the use of overpaid consultants who served as presidents (Abdullah Randhawa, now possibly going by Abdullah Mehmood) drawn from past councils have all been cited as mechanisms that help preserve the status quo. In at least one case, critics have questioned whether hiring former officeholders as consultants at substantial cost creates the appearance of a conflict of interest, even if technically permitted.
Individually, any one of these issues might be explainable. Taken together, they paint a troubling picture: a student government that risks becoming structurally insulated from the students it is meant to serve.
The deeper problem is systemic. The Societies Act in British Columbia assumes that members of an organization can withdraw their support if they disagree with how it is run. That assumption does not hold for student unions, where membership fees are effectively mandatory and collected alongside tuition. Students cannot meaningfully opt out, yet oversight mechanisms remain designed for voluntary clubs.
Universities themselves have limited authority to intervene, and provincial oversight is distant. In practice, the only real check on a student association is an engaged electorate—but engagement is difficult when students are busy, transient, and often unaware of how much money is at stake.
None of this is an argument against compensating student leaders or hiring (competent) staff who truly care about providing the services KPU students deserve. Running a large association is real work. But when compensation rises far beyond comparable institutions, when questions go unanswered for half a decade, and when critics inside and outside the organization describe a culture of insulation rather than accountability, the burden of proof must shift to leadership and questioning the legal structures that are in place to explain why.
Students deserve more than procedural compliance. They deserve transparency, responsiveness, and leadership that always remembers whose money is being spent. Transparency of who gets paid and exactly why must always be at the forefront of any nonprofit organization who has a fiduciary duty to the members who allow it to function. As a CPA candidate, Executive Directory Timothii Ragavan should be the first individual who deeply understands this ethical duty and paradigm.
Until that standard is restored, the KSA risks drifting even further from its purpose—not a voice for students, but an institution increasingly protected from them.
Your words do carry weight. When used with intent, they can shift policies, spark dialogue, and protect what matters. 📩 Email KSA and KPU today.















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