A North Korean’s Promise to his Father | Joseph’s Story: Part 1
Most of you may know me as Joseph, but my Korean name is Kim Kwang Jin. It means, “walking forward with brightness.” My father gave me this name, full of the hopes and expectations many fathers have for their sons.
But hope is a hard thing to have, especially in a country like North Korea, and as a child, I certainly didn’t make it any easier for my father to believe in my brightness. Even in elementary school, I was a poor student.
The first time I remember making my father proud was through my cooking, not from studying. That day, he and my older sister had gone to the mountains to collect firewood. It was getting close to midnight, but they still hadn’t come home, so I decided to make dinner for them—rice and kimchi soup. At the end of dinner, my father said, Son, this is the best rice I’ve ever had. I had never made rice before, and I knew it was undercooked. That night I realized how much my father loves me. I promised myself that next time I would make him better rice.
But next time never came. When I was 12, my father died of starvation.
To save us from the same fate, my mother and sister left for China in search of work and food. My mom ended up in a North Korean prison. But my sister never returned. Within one year, I had lost my entire family. I was alone—helpless, homeless, and orphaned on the streets.
After three years of barely surviving, I decided to escape. The journey would be risky, but staying in North Korea would be a risk too. I knew I could die of starvation. So I took a chance. Unlike most people, I decided to escape during the daytime, thinking that the border guards would become complacent because why would anyone be crazy enough to cross the border in the middle of the day with nowhere to hide?
Fortunately, I made it to China without being caught.
In China, I slept in the mountains and went to towns begging for food to survive. One day, while crossing a bridge in Yanji, I remember it started to snow. Everyone around me started walking fast.
I remember being so envious because walking fast must have meant they had a home they were rushing toward. I, too, wanted to walk fast, but I had no home and no one waiting for me.
Later on, I was lucky enough to be taken in by a halmoni, an older grandmother. She fed me and let me live with her for six months but I still lived in hiding, fearful that at any moment I could be arrested and sent back to North Korea. The halmoni eventually connected me with Liberty in North Korea and I had an opportunity to escape China and be the first North Korean refugee minor to come to the United States.
I was placed with a foster family and began attending an American high school, which felt a bit ridiculous at first. Even in North Korea, I was an F student. I barely finished elementary school so jumping straight into high school in a foreign country felt overwhelming.
One evening, my foster mom made chicken wings. They were so good that I wanted more, but I realized there wasn’t enough for everyone to have seconds. So I held back, thinking no one would notice. As I stared at my plate, my foster dad placed his last wing in front of me. I looked up, and he smiled, urging me to eat without saying a word. In that silence, I felt the depth of his love and care.
At that moment, I thought of my biological father. Even during our hardest times, he used to share what little food he had with me. I wished more than anything that I could cook for him one last time and share one more meal together.
That night, I promised myself that I would study hard and go to college. I believed that was the best way to honor my father’s sacrifice and make him proud.
Continue reading part 2 of Joseph’s story
Years before Joseph would reach freedom, talk on the TED stage, write a memoir, and pursue his master’s at Harvard Kennedy School, Joseph’s father saw the brightness in his son. While he may not have been able to witness Joseph reach these milestones, none of it would have been possible without the depth of his love that became the foundation for Joseph’s life.
His family’s support, both in North Korea and in the US, has given Joseph the confidence to believe in and fulfill his brightness.
When recalling his past, warm childhood memories and gripping hardship are shared in the same breath. Joseph often says that North Korea is not a land of darkness, merely a land with darkness. Both can exist. But what matters is what we choose to focus on—the shadow cast by the regime or the brightness of the North Korean people.
Help more North Korean refugees reach freedom and share their brightness with the world.
How A North Korean Defector Sends Money Back Home
It may seem like North and South Korea are completely cut off from each other, but even after decades of separation, channels of communication persist. Defectors who have made it to freedom are bridging the gap, connecting people inside North Korea to the world beyond. Through extensive broker networks, they send back money and information, accelerating change in the world’s most authoritarian country.
Through this process known as remittances, millions of dollars are sent into the country every year, representing huge spending power. Here’s how they do it!
Reconnecting with Family
To send money back home, North Korean refugees must first contact their families. They hire brokers to find their relatives and arrange illicit phone calls close to the border with China, where smuggled Chinese cell phones can connect to international networks. In North Korea, people are often wary of such brokers, so they may have to be convinced with codewords or childhood nicknames that only the family would know, or recognizable handwriting and photos.
To avoid being caught, contact is often made from the mountain at night, or using a series of text or voice messages sent through apps like Wechat and quickly deleted. When the call finally happens, it can be emotional for both sides.
“You hear someone say, ‘Okay you’re connected, you can speak now.’ But no one says anything to each other. You just hear a high-pitched tone, and silence. Could this be real? You’re just crying, and can’t even speak.”
– Miso, escaped North Korea in 2010
How Remittances Work
There are different ways to send money to North Korea, but a simple version involves three parties: A North Korean resettled in South Korea, a remittance broker in North Korea, and the recipient in North Korea.
- A resettled North Korean, makes a request to a remittance broker to arrange a transfer. They wire money to a Chinese account controlled by that broker.
- The remittance broker in North Korea uses a smuggled Chinese phone to confirm receipt of the funds.
- After taking a hefty commission, they give cash to the refugee’s family. The family can confirm receipt of the money by sending a photo, video, or voice message back, so the sender can be confident that they’ve not been scammed.
With this process, the remittance broker in North Korea occasionally needs to replenish their cash on hand. This could happen through the physical smuggling of cash, but oftentimes money from their Chinese bank account is used to buy goods in China that are then sold in North Korea, generating cash. In this way, physical money never actually has to cross borders.
The Power to Change Lives
North Korea is one of the poorest countries in the world, whereas South Korea is one of the richest. Therefore remittances from relatives in South Korea or elsewhere can be absolutely transformative. The money is spent on almost everything, including food, clothing, shoes, medicine, housing, transport, and bribes to keep the family safe.
“I’ve sent money back to North Korea ever since I resettled in South Korea. I send an average of $1,500 a year. My parents used the money to buy a house! They’re also going to use it to help my younger brother escape and come to South Korea.”
– Jeonghyuk, resettled North Korean refugee
With new resources also comes new opportunities. North Koreans who never had the means before can now think about starting a business at the Jangmadang, or market. Since the collapse of the regime’s socialist economy in the 1990s, the markets have become essential to making a living. The flow of remittances is increasing trade, food security, marketization, and entrepreneurship, empowering ordinary North Koreans to gain autonomy.
A Ripple Effect
Along with money, North Korean refugees send back news and information from the outside world. At first, family members back home may not want to hear about life beyond the border. Decades of propaganda villainizing the outside world can be difficult to overcome, and if caught in communication with defectors, they could face serious punishment.
But as money continues to flow in, many people can’t help but be curious- what do their relatives outside do to make a living? What kind of house do they live in? Is life there like the K-dramas smuggled into North Korea? Conversely, defectors ask their family members, what they can do with the money in North Korea? This exchange of information is incredibly valuable, providing a glimpse into the most closed society on earth.
The flow of information into North Korea erodes the regime’s propaganda and changes worldviews. As the people learn more about the wealth and opportunities of the outside world, some may also risk their lives to escape. Money sent from remittances can also be used to fund this dangerous journey.
“When I first contacted my family back in North Korea after I resettled in South Korea, they didn’t believe that I was doing well here. My parents even resented me a little for leaving. But after I sent them money and told them more about my life here, their views changed. Now they realize that the regime has been lying to them and they’re not as loyal anymore. I have become a pioneer of freedom to my family back in North Korea.”
– Jo Eun, rescued by LiNK in 2017
Agents of Change
Remittances are about more than just the movement of money. Refugees who have been separated from their families aren’t able to go back home themselves, but can still care for their loved ones in some way. Every phone call into the country and every dollar sent back represents one small step towards the day when the North Korean people finally achieve their freedom.
More than 33,000 North Korean refugees have made it to freedom, and although it has become more difficult during the pandemic, surveys report that 65.7% have sent money back to North Korea. At LiNK, we’re committed to working with and building the capacity of North Korean refugees so they can succeed in their new lives and make an even bigger impact in their communities and on this issue.
