If You're Disabled in Azerbaijan, Getting Your Benefits Takes Luck, or a Bribe

by Sabina Vaqifqizi

SURAKHANI, Azerbaijan - About 70 people stood in line outside a small government office in this industrial suburb of Baku late one July morning.

Among them was Minara Yusifova. Like the others, she was waiting for the bureaucrats inside to certify that she is handicapped and therefore entitled to disability benefits.

Yusifova, who said she has had breast and uterine surgery, had not managed to see anyone at the office on three previous visits. “All my documents are in order. But they make me come back again and again,” she said. Yusifova needed to settle a disagreement with the office, which wanted her to register in a category of disabled people who receive lower benefits.

“How on Earth can I agree to such a thing?” she said incredulously, adding that she had been offered the chance to register in a category that receives higher benefits – the category she believes she belongs to – if she was willing to pay for it. “I haven’t paid anything yet. I came today as well, hoping they might feel sorry for me. At noon we were told that waiting in the queue was useless and that the work day had finished. But they’re supposed to accept our documents until 3 p.m. I’ll have to come here again next Thursday.”

Yusifova’s story is familiar to many disabled people in Azerbaijan, who complain of suffering long lines at registration offices, being coerced into accepting lower benefits than they are entitled to, and being asked to pay bribes.

BETTER LUCK NEXT TIME

Azeris who receive disability benefits must have their disabilities verified by the Medical Social Expertise Commission. They are then assigned to one of three categories, with higher benefits going to those with the most serious disabilities. Critics say the system has the key ingredients for corruption: lack of oversight and an uninformed and desperate clientele, worn down by hours of waiting and many wasted visits.

Standing in the same line as Yusifova, Parvana Malikli had come back to register her disabled grandson, which she did two years ago. “My grandson suffers from congentinal heart disease. They say they can register him as permanently disabled when he reaches 26. So far they make me come and go, but they’re not demanding any money,” she said.

By Malikli’s count, she was 57th in line. “The line is always the same. There are people who come and stand in line beginning at 7 in the morning. Now there are 60 to 70 people waiting their turn.”

The announcement board in front of the office listed the documents required to verify disability: identity card, an appointment card from a local hospital, a diagnosis from the hospital of treatment, and proof of household size. Another board posted the office’s working hours: noon to 3 p.m. on Mondays and 9 a.m. to 3 p.m. on Thursdays. But some of those in line said the commission had not been open on Mondays for more than two years.

Mubariz Jafarov, the office director, said the posted office hours were correct. “Sometimes people come here at 9 a.m. on Mondays. And those people aren’t able to see us because our work starts at 12.” He also denied claims by those in line that the lines are always long and that staff members sometimes ask for bribes.

The only worker at the Surakhani Medical Social Expertise Commission the following Monday was nurse Mehriban Aliyeva. She said that although the management has a meeting at Central Commission on Mondays, it’s considered a working day. “I’m the only one registering the disabled coming on this day,” she said.

Rufat Huseynov, a 25-year-old with a registered disability, said the situtation is even worse for those who live in the villages far from the capital. “Since people from villages are usually illiterate, they become victims of corruption. The terrible lines at regional MSECs lead to bribes. People from the village have to pay the bribes in order to avoid travelling long distances,” said Huseynov, who is from Tartar in western Azerbaijan.

One applicant who was not ready to pay a bribe was Ziyafat Ibrahimova, who said she had been trying for two years unsuccessfully to prove to the MSEC office in the western town of Ganja that she has a spinal problem, even though she has a diagnosis from a hospital to support her claim. “They don’t acknowledge my disability and keep me coming back,” she said, adding that she was told at one point that a “payment” of 600 manats (about $740) would facilitate the registration process.

Ibrahimova, who is 55, is waiting for her 57th birthday when she can begin to draw her pension. “I’ll be 57 in two years and will retire. My only hope is being able to cover part of my treatment expenses when I retire,” she said.

NOT DISABLED ENOUGH

Rovshan Aghayev, an analyst with the independent Center of Assistance to Economic Initiatives, has studied the country’s system of disability benefits and MSECs. “We realized that the most persistent problem was the appointment of disability according to groups. Thus, the disabled belonging to the [higher-paying] second and third groups are registered for one year only and have to re-register at MSEC annually,” he said. “Those belonging to the first group are usually registered as permanently disabled. The MSEC officials should be more strictly controlled. Since MSECs are under the Labor Ministry, this problem should be resolved there.” Aghayev called for stronger oversight laws and enforcement.

About 40 percent of complaints received about MSECs in the western regions concern placement in disability categories, according to Valeh Gadimov, director of the government’s social welfare office in Ganja. “For instance, a disabled person belonging to the first group is registered in the second group. The reason is a smaller payment that the second and third group disabled get,” he said.

Miragha Mirgadirov, an official in the department of the Labor Ministry that oversees the commissions, ackowledged that corruption can be a problem at the local offices. He said officials at the ministry are reviewing complaints about the MSECs and “any breach is being eliminated.”

Mirgadirov said the main problem with the MSECs is the long lines, which the ministry hopes to fix by opening more offices. The country has 22 MSECs, while more than 80,000 Azeris were receiving disability benefits at the beginning of this year, according to the national statistics agency. But even such a seemingly straightforward change must be made in the form of legislation, which has not yet been submitted to the cabinet.

But another problem could be the MSECs’ lack of transparency. When contacted by a reporter, Fikrat Gasimova, head of the central MSEC, referred questions to the ministry.

“MSECs provide no information either to the media or to ordinary citizens and send them to the [ministry],” said Aghayev, the analyst. “This centralization at the ministry should be broken down. I’d say that the Labor Ministry is absolutely the darkest and most restricted ministry in Azerbaijan. The website of the ministry doesn’t work, either, as a place for us to get information. A ministry operating properly must never be restricted.”

A PIECEMEAL APPROACH

Yusif Aghayev, a lawyer with Transparency Azerbaijan, said those overseeing the MSECs take a narrow view of their responsibility, to the detriment of disabled people. When his group forwards complaints it receives about MSECs to the labor and health ministries, he said, “The reply letters usually state no corruption was found. Corruption however, does not mean only bribing; excessive delays and abuse of authority are also forms of corruption,” he said.

Aghayev said Transparency Azerbaijan received six MSEC-related complaints in the first six months of this year. “Unfortunately these complaints are being dealt with individually, because the officials don’t want to solve the problem in general. We can’t find a comprehensive solution to the problem,” he said.

Aghayev said the issue comes down to lax enforcement and a public that does not know its rights, a situation he thinks could be righted by legislation and public education. “All the gaps in the legislation should be eliminated to get rid of the problem. The government should show some political will to solve this problem, and civil society should become more active,” he said.

In the meantime, the waiting continues, even for those who can least endure it.

“I can’t stay on my feet a long time,” said 52-year-old Parviz Malikov, one of those in that mid-July queue. “But nobody here cares.”

Sabina Vaqifqizi's story was also purchased by Transitions Online. It was the first time that Sabina has sold one of her stories to Western media.

If You're Disabled in Azerbaijan, Getting Your Benefits Takes Luck, or a Bribe

About AZAJA