A North Korean Defector’s Nine Year Journey to Freedom | Eunju’s Story
I didn’t know I was hungry until I was eight years old. Growing up, I had no concept of whether my hometown was wealthy or poor. Then when the great famine struck in the mid-90s, more people died in our city than anywhere else in the country.
That’s when I realized “Oh, this is the most difficult place to live in North Korea.”
I was born in the city of Eundok, North Hamgyong Province. Before that it was called Aoji, a destitute place infamous for its coal mines, where South Korean prisoners of war were sent to work.
In the middle of a long famine, people lose all sense of humanity. You couldn’t survive without dirtying your hands. My father was a kindhearted person, the type that was unable to hurt anyone. But towards the end, hunger drove him to steal from our own house.
On my first day of middle school, I couldn’t find my new backpack anywhere. It turns out that my dad had taken it to the Jangmadang, traded it for food, and eaten it by himself. In the end, he still died from starvation, and my mom, my sister, and I were left to fend for ourselves.
We heard that if we went to China, we could eat all the candy we wanted. With that one piece of information, my mom said she’d rather get shot crossing the Tumen river than starve in North Korea.
It was mid-February in 1999, during the bitter cold winter. The water was frozen solid and stretched over 100 meters across. My mom went first, followed by my sister, and I was in the very back. Maybe it was because I was anxious, but my shoes felt so slippery and I kept falling over as they went farther and farther ahead. We heard that soldiers would shoot anyone who tried to cross the river. But this was our only chance at survival.
My mind was racing, “What if I’m left behind and get caught?” My mom and sister probably feared the same thing.
We encountered a tributary that wasn’t frozen all the way, so my mom waited and had me go first because I was the lightest. A few steps in, the ice broke and I fell into the piercing cold water. None of us knew how to swim. At that moment, I really thought it was the end. But then my feet hit the ground. We had made it to the other side.
Not long after we had crossed into China, a Korean-speaking woman came up to us. She invited us to her house and gave us over a dozen boiled eggs, more food than we had seen in years. In North Korea, when my sister and I had a field trip for school, my mom would cut one boiled egg and give each of us half in our lunch box. To have this much at once was a true luxury. For the first time in a long while, we dared to have some hope.
But then my mom was sold off to a Chinese man. The fortunate thing was that even though my sister and I were 16 and 14 years old, we were so short that people asked if we were 7 or 8. They couldn’t sell us separately, so we were sent together with our mom.
We had been sold for 2000 yuan. When we wanted to leave, the man told us to pay him back. We worked in his house and on his farm but of course we never saw a penny. For three years, we lived in confinement, and my little brother was born.
On a quiet night before my brother was even a year old, Chinese police came to the house in the dark, knocked on the door, and arrested us.
When North Koreans get caught, sometimes they’ll roll up their money and eat it or hide it, but we didn’t have anything. We were taken back across the border with just our clothes. It’s well known that there’s a physical exam to look for hidden money. In a way, you shouldn’t even feel a basic sense of shame as a woman and as a human being. If you cry or plead for mercy, you’ll get beaten up. You cannot question them at all.
With so many people in North Korea dying of starvation, names were removed from the family register after three years without any news. We had already been declared dead. There were two minors and an adult, but our identities couldn’t be confirmed. At the time they couldn’t keep minors in prison without a ruling from the court, so we were entrusted to another person from our hometown. No one wanted extra mouths to feed, so he just let us go.
We went straight to the Tumen river and in 2002, we escaped again.
I had enough food when I was in China. Even dogs and pigs ate rice and corn. But we lived looking over our shoulders, in constant fear of the police.
When we heard about life in South Korea, where our safety and identities would be guaranteed, we decided to defect once more. We were introduced to a broker, gave them some cash upfront, and traveled through Mongolia and the Gobi Desert.
On September 1st, 2006, I arrived at Incheon airport with my mom. My sister joined us in South Korea in 2008. Nine years after first crossing the Tumen River, we were finally together in freedom.
When I was in China, my only wish was that my mom, sister, and I could sleep together, eat together, and come home from work together. I dreamed that someday we could go to the supermarket and get a whole cart full of things to share. After coming to South Korea, we achieved not only that, but everything we’ve ever wanted.
I co-authored a book about my journey, A Thousand Miles to Freedom, with a foreign journalist named Sebastien Falletti. He interviewed several North Koreans, and I agreed to share my story with him out of a sense of duty. I never thought he’d choose me.
Compared to North Korean defectors who live special lives, I don’t actually dream of being a human rights activist. There are times when I don’t want to share anymore and I feel like I have to repeat myself.
But then I think about my best friend in North Korea. Her name is Sunhwa and I don’t think she’s here yet. I imagine that she would want to live like me — to attend college, pave her own way, and explore the vast world we live in. But she is still stuck in the darkness. Until Sunhwa can live a life of freedom, I feel a sense of responsibility to continue to share.
When I think of North Korea, the dark image of my hometown floods my memories. But I would still like to go back just once and visit my dad’s grave. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized that he was also a victim of the North Korean regime. I have hope that in this lifetime, North Korea will open up. I’ll return with my mom and my sister, and together we’ll visit my dad’s resting place and prepare a huge meal for him.
For North Koreans to share their stories with audiences around the world, retelling and reliving some of the most harrowing experiences, is an act of exceptional courage. They’re working towards the day when others no longer have to go through the same painful experiences.
You can help rescue more North Korean refugees and support them as they begin their new lives in freedom.
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Holly & Mia: North Korean mother and daughter
"When I was young, my mom took me to go see a fortune teller. The fortune teller stared quite forcefully into my eyes, then said that she couldn't see me—that my future was a mystery because she couldn't see me in this world. My mother started crying, asking if I was going to die. The fortune teller told her not to worry, that although I would leave this world, I was going to find success in a world away. That was the moment I understood. I knew I had to leave."
To not know a day’s rest, to never feel a moment's peace — these were common themes in Holly’s life. Since graduating high school, she worked tooth and nail just to stay afloat. Growing into adulthood in the midst of a changing North Korea, she knew that money would be the only thing that could keep her and her family safe. Her family was able to find security by doing business in the Jangmadang (North Korean Market), but it was not enough. Holly left her home to travel to the southern part of North Korea to try to run her own business. Instead of steady business, she found love. Holly’s newfound romantic bliss did not last long. Due to a series of unfortunate business transactions, her husband lost everything. Feeling helpless, she decided to give up everything she had and make for the border. After two attempts and two jail sentences for attempted escape, she finally made it out. But even in China, she could feel a target on her back. Shortly after crossing the border, with no options, Holly was sold into a marriage.
Holly had a daughter with this man, and stayed in a loveless “marriage” because she did not want to deprive her daughter a father. She wanted to be able to give the new light in her life everything — every chance and opportunity any other child is offered by birth in the free world. Seeing that her husband could not care or provide for her, let alone her child, she knew she was not yet free. With the dream of an opportunity-rich future for her baby, Holly was able to make the arduous journey to freedom through our rescue networks. Traveling thousands of miles with her baby, not yet two years old, she could feel her dream come true the further she got from her old life.Now, Holly and her daughter Mia are safely resettled in the United States. Holly is excited to be able to learn anything and everything. "I want to learn a skill, any skill, that allows me to gain a good career and provide for my baby."
On a recent visit with Holly and Mia, we learned something new about her. Mia had beautiful hats, scarves, mittens and sweaters that were all knit by her mother. Holly learned to knit from her own mother and was using her skills to dress her daughter. With limited resources, she was even knitting with two chopsticks! Holly is working diligently to learn English and is excited and motivated by all of the new information she has access to. When she is not studying English or playing with Mia, she is knitting. To support Holly and Mia in their resettlement, we worked together to provide a place for Holly to sell her beautiful, handmade hats. 100% of the proceeds will go directly to Holly and Mia. Thank you for your support!
