BRACU provides a masterclass on how not to build a website
In a bold move to modernize course registration, BRAC University unveiled its shiny new portal, Connect, built by the ever-reliable BRAC IT. Unfortunately, the only thing it connected students to was frustration and despair. On its maiden voyage, Connect crashed faster than a freshman’s GPA during midterms, leaving students staring at error messages instead of their dream schedules.
The chaos didn’t stop there. Along with the students, even faculty members, usually the calm voices of reason, took to the university’s Discord server to roast the portal. One professor tried to calm the situation by saying, “We’ve informed the concerned team about this,” a student quipped,
“We are concerned about the concerned team.”
Another joked, “At least the website’s downtime gave students time to reflect on their life choices.”
But the real pièce de résistance was the laughably low number of course sections and seats available. With thousands of students vying for spots, the portal became a Hunger Games simulator. Want a popular course? You better have the reflexes of an esports pro. Hoping for a convenient time slot? Dream on. Students were left scrambling for scraps, piecing together schedules resembling a patchwork quilt rather than an academic plan.
Here’s a thought: BRAC University can host glitzy business competitions with prize money and fanfare, but holding a coding competition to build a functioning website seems as foreign as a student enjoying Connect. Imagine the irony: students winning cash for creating a portal that works while BRAC IT sits in the corner, hugging their error logs and sobbing into their keyboards. Instead of blindly trusting BRAC IT, why not hand the reins to the students and faculty who use the system? We’ve got computer science majors who could code a better portal in their sleep and professors begging for a fix since the Stone Age. But no, let’s leave it to the “professionals” who think a spinning loading icon is a feature, not a cry for help.
Ultimately, Connect lived up to its name—connecting students in their shared misery. BRAC IT, take a bow. Or better yet, take a coding class. And maybe, just maybe, consider letting the students handle the next update. After all, we’ve already proven we can survive Connect; building something better should be a piece of cake.
