A North Korean Mom and Son’s Harrowing Escape | Harry’s Story
The town I grew up in was surrounded by mountains. When the season was right, my friends and I would hike up to look for pears. Fresh fruit was a luxury in North Korea, but the mountainside was covered in orchards. One day we snuck in when the fruit was still green, hoping to avoid the guards.
I hid in a tree, passing down pears to my friends, when we heard a whistle blow. My heart was pounding; it was like a heist movie. I rolled away and ran out of danger. Somehow, we got away with it. It didn’t even matter that the fruit we ate was not ripe and made our stomachs hurt—we felt unstoppable.
Little did I know that just a few years later, I would be running for my life once again… but this time, it was not a game. I would be escaping from North Korea.
Life in North Korea was normal to me. I went to school and spent time with my friends and older sister. All I knew about South Korea was from the movies I’d secretly watched. It seemed like a scary place, where they trafficked drugs and stole your organs.
My mom was often busy with work. She had a job that connected North Koreans to China, wiring money between families. With her income, we were able to live comfortably. But it was risky. She could usually bribe the guards to let her cross the border safely, but it wouldn’t work forever. One day, she was caught and sent to one of North Korea’s brutal prison camps.
My mom spent two years in the prison camp, forced to do intense labor every day while barely being fed. She told us later that she had shared a concrete cell with 50 other people and they lacked basic things like soap, toilet paper, and sanitary products. Guards would abuse their power and find any reason to assault them.
Many people in the camp were also women who had been arrested for crossing the border, trying to find ways to make a living and take care of their children. Dying in prison meant your crimes would be passed on to your family. And so, many of those women endured faithfully until they were released, and then passed away afterward.
When my mom finally left the camp, she quit the work she was doing and told her clients she was done. But one of them refused to hear it.
He was a South Korean fisherman whose boat had been thrown off course by a typhoon, and North Korean authorities refused to let him return home. One night, he showed up drunk at our house and threatened my mom. If she didn’t take him across the border, he would turn her in. So she had no choice. None of us did.
My mom took me with her and brought the old man to the border of North Korea. We were supposed to meet some brokers who would take him across, but they couldn’t agree on a price or a place. After a few days of waiting, everything went wrong.
The police had discovered our plan. They had our photos and were already putting up wanted posters for our capture. There was no way we could go home now. The choice was made for us. We had to flee the country with the old man.
I thought I would die that night. Armed soldiers patrol the river bordering North Korea and China, and are told to shoot defectors on sight.
If caught, my mom would have faced life in prison for her second offense—no better than a death sentence. But somehow, we made it to the other side.
In China, we waited three days in the mountains for our brokers. Every moment spent at a standstill was a huge risk, because Chinese authorities pay local citizens to report North Korean refugees. When it became clear that help wasn’t coming, we headed for a nearby village, laying low in the grass until the cover of night.
By nightfall, we took our chances and entered the village. Luckily, we met a kind woman who introduced us to a new broker. This broker helped us get to another city where the old man was picked up by South Korean officials and flown home to his family. As for me and my mom, we couldn’t go back to North Korea. So we went to see my middle sister, who had already been in China for quite some time.
Before I was born, my mom took my two sisters to China with her. She wanted them to stay there safely, but my oldest sister refused and returned to North Korea with my mom. My middle sister was left behind, sent to live with a trusted friend. But the unthinkable happened. At 12 years old, she was trafficked and sold to be married to a much older man. Every night, she would stand by the water well, threatening to hang herself if the man came near her.
But one year later, the inevitable happened. When she was just 13 years old, she had a baby.
Like many other young North Korean women, my sister went across the border seeking a better life, but ended up living her teenage years in captivity, with no laws or family to protect her. Every day she had imagined running away, until finally she did. She reunited with my mom in North Korea when she was 20.
But not everything went as hoped. Though she was happy to be together with our family again, it turned out life was just as hard in North Korea. In the end, my sister returned to her daughter in China just a few years later.
It had been years since we last saw my sister, and it was my first time meeting her daughter, my niece. We were the same age. For a month, we all enjoyed the bittersweet reunion. Then my sister connected us with another broker, and my mom and I finally escaped for good.
We eventually reached South Korea and it turns out, it wasn’t the dangerous country I had seen in movies.
Still, the memories of everything we had been through tormented me. I was angry at the old man who pressured us into his escape plan. I hated that my mom chose such a risky job in the first place.
Later we found out my oldest sister had been tortured by North Korean authorities when we left, leaving her devastated by mental illness. They wanted her to confess that our family had helped the old man escape. Someone had to take the blame. My older sister, who was once strong and reliable, would never be the same again.
When I first reached South Korea, I hid my past. Everything was terrifying and different—the culture, the lifestyle, and even the language. My new friends would hang out at internet cafes and I didn’t even know how to use a computer.
But I started learning. I studied hard in school and got a job to support myself. I began reading books to develop my own philosophy for my new life. I even started playing video games and for better or for worse, became just as obsessed as everyone else.
When I got to high school, I finally told my friends the truth about my life. Their response was so different from what I had expected. I found that rather than being cruel, they were curious. I realized the importance of my story, and how sharing my family’s painful experiences could change people’s perspectives about North Korea.
In 2019, at the end of high school, I met someone from Liberty in North Korea. I was so curious how she spoke about North Korea. She invited me to attend their Changemakers Summit and I had never experienced anything like that before—South Koreans, North Koreans, and even foreigners who were all young, open-minded, and interested in how to make an impact on this issue.
Truthfully, I never saw myself as an activist. I didn’t think I had what it takes.
But if I could change how just one person saw North Korea—to see the people and their resilience, bravery, and hope instead of the regime—I realized I was already acting as an advocate.
These days, I’m working and studying full time. After coming to South Korea my mom got her masters degree and is now writing a book about her life. My middle sister eventually escaped and joined us in South Korea too. She got remarried and finally gets to live a normal life. Even though we’re all pursuing different things, we’re still together, holding tightly to the hope that we will someday reunite with my older sister.
Today, I can be my own person. I can buy fresh fruit whenever I want, or walk along the Han river anytime. After all of the running and all of the pain, I am finally free to choose my own life.
Harry’s story echoes that of many North Korean refugees, who live with the weight of their past while grasping onto hope for the future. After what happened to his oldest sister, Harry says he has nothing left to lose. That’s why he chooses to speak openly about the horrific things he and his family have experienced, hoping to bring change and one day reunite with her in a free North Korea.
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Life in Freedom: A Conversation with Brian
For many years, Brian lived a charmed life in North Korea. He had a loving family, a university education, and a full stomach, but everything changed when the government stopped providing rations and wages for work. To make extra money, Brian's father began working as a broker, helping desperate North Koreans escape to China.
When his father was outed in a newspaper for helping a high profile defector escape, the entire family was put in danger. Brian's parents immediately fled to China. He followed soon thereafter, but was captured upon arrival by Chinese police. He spent the next two weeks in a detention center in China, where he was routinely beaten. Thankfully, LiNK was able to pay for his release so he could avoid repatriation.
Since resettling in South Korea, Brian's been very busy. He began attending university shortly after he arrived, hoping to become a journalist in the future so he can write about North Korea for an international audience. This year, he got married to another North Korean defector and they're now expecting their first child.
Our resettlement coordinator Jihyun was able to catch up with Brian recently to talk about what his life has been like since resettling.
Jihyun: What is the best thing that happened to you this week?
Brian: My pregnant wife and I found out that we are having a daughter! Yeah, we are so happy!I felt so bad watching my wife going through morning sickness. She couldn’t eat properly until recently.
Jihyun: So did you not eat when she couldn’t eat because you felt so bad for her?
Brian: Oh, no. I still ate well, because...you know, I was hungry. Haha.
Jihyun: Oh yeah, I understand. Of course you had to eat well so you could protect and take good care of her when she couldn’t eat. (Brian, his wife, and the photographer laugh.)
Jihyun: What was the most difficult thing when you got out of Hanawon (resettlement center for North Korean defectors)?
Brian: When I first graduated from Hanawon, I still had a thick North Korean accent so people looked at me whenever I started talking, which made me so uncomfortable.
Jihyun: What was your biggest challenge in North Korea? What's your biggest challenge in South Korea?
Brian: In North Korea I didn’t have a lot of difficulty because I was lucky to have a well-off family there. In fact, after I came to South Korea I started having a lot of difficulties because I had to adjust to the new society.
I think getting a job is one of the most difficult challenges for many resettled North Korean refugees. Especially since I am about to graduate from college and have a wife and a baby coming, I feel a little pressure. I just want more South Korean companies to hire more resettled North Koreans without discrimination/stereotype. I have heard from many of my North Korean friends that they have a hard time getting jobs because many companies have negative stereotypes about North Korean people, so they don’t want to hire North Korean candidates.
I am not saying that they have to hire us because we are from North Korea, but I want more companies to willingly hire us if we are qualified regardless of our background.
Also, I believe North Korean defectors in South Korea are still underprivileged in society and have a lot of obstacles. I hope there will be more effective job training and employment programs until more resettled North Koreans settle down in their specific work fields.
Jihyun: What is it like living in freedom in South Korea?
Brian: I really appreciate the freedom that I have here. In some of my college classes, I got to study the South Korean constitution that guarantees our freedom. There are so many types of freedom that I can enjoy. I can’t even count them because there are so many. One thing is the freedom of traveling anywhere I want. Back in North Korea, even traveling to another area was so difficult. Here, as long as I don’t cause trouble or break the law, no one can take away my freedom of movement.
Jihyun: Have you helped any other defectors resettle in South Korea? How?
Brian: Well, I wish I could do more, but right now what I can do is to help other resettled North Korean refugees who want to go to college by sharing my experience and giving them useful tips and advice about college life.
Jihyun: Have your perceptions of Americans and South Koreans changed?
Brian: In North Korea I didn’t really think South Koreans were very different than us because I thought we were all Koreans—the same blood. However, my perception of Americans changed a lot especially after I met LiNK staff and learned about LiNK's supporters.
I used to think Americans were so weird and selfish, because that was how I was taught about Americans in North Korea.
When I was caught by the Chinese police in China, LiNK helped me so much to be released and come to South Korea. I was so moved by that.
Jihyun: What advice would you give to a friend who just arrived in South Korea?
Brian: I want to share everything I have learned with him. I would say to him that he has to do what he wants. There are many options that you can choose for what you are going to do in this new society. If you don’t want to regret your decision in the future, you have to do what you like.
Jihyun: How often do you think about North Korea? What do you think about?
Brian: Not quite often, but I start thinking about North Korea when I am stressed out about my studies or finding a job, because I didn’t really worry about those kinds of things back in North Korea. When I am thinking of North Korea, I usually picture hanging out with my friends there. We played a lot of games, including card games. Also I liked drinking with my good friends too, haha.
Lastly I want to take this chance to say thanks to LiNK staff, volunteers, and supporters. I always appreciate them and thinking about them gives a lot of hope and motivation to do my best for my life.
