I Watched K-Dramas Inside North Korea. They Gave Me the Courage to Escape | Hannah’s Story
How many times have you checked your phone today? Fifty? A hundred? Every time we look at the screen we are connected to the world around us and an endless stream of information—news, research, entertainment.
Now imagine waking up tomorrow in a place without the internet. A place where people are executed for sharing foreign media, and where families risk their lives just to stay in touch across borders.
For 26 million people in North Korea, this is their reality. And 7 years ago, I was one of them.
I was born in Hoeryong, a city in the northernmost part of North Korea near the Tumen River. Winters were brutal and there were frequent shortages of fuel and electricity.
My father was a high school physics teacher. He was quiet, loyal and diligent. His days started at 7am in the classroom and went late into the night, even on weekends. But despite his dedication, the monthly rations he received were not enough for our family.
So in order to survive, my mother began selling goods at the market. She wanted a better life for us, and that led her to do the unthinkable—escape North Korea. Three times she tried. Three times she was caught. Each time she was imprisoned and sent to a labor camp.
The prison camp was a living hell. My mother saw women waste away from hunger and die from simple illnesses. She was one of the lucky ones; her family brought her food and medicine, an act that made her a witness to the suffering of others.
I was just 13 when I first visited her, carrying a bowl of rice. In North Korea, it falls to families to provide for their imprisoned relatives.
Seeing my mother stand there like a criminal, her head bowed before the guard, I knew this wasn't right. I should have been in school, but instead, I was sneaking food to her, hiding from the stares of strangers.
We were being punished, but I didn't understand why. I felt wronged, and in my anger, I blamed her.
My mother had made a choice to save her family, but North Korean society saw her as a criminal. My father, who had led a quiet life as a teacher, was denied opportunities at work. Our family was labeled as traitors.
In 2013, on her fourth attempt, my mother finally escaped and made it to South Korea. She worked tirelessly to send money back to North Korea to help our family. She also slowly opened a window into another world.
Using a smuggled Chinese cell phone I was able to speak to my mother from time to time. And on our secret calls she shared with me new South Korean expressions and words she was learning. As she settled into a new society, despite numerous differences, she also recognized similarities between North and South Korea and its people, and reminded me that despite decades of division, we are still one people.
I secretly began watching South Korean sitcoms. I’ll never forget one called “High Kick 3.” In one episode, there was a story about a man who fell into debt and was being chased by collectors. But what shocked me was that his family wasn’t punished for it. In North Korea, if one person “sins” the entire family is condemned. But this showed me that in South Korea, life could be different. That even within a family, you were free to make your own choices.
This realization changed me and offered a glimpse of the vast world beyond North Korea. Information, even in the form of a sitcom, was hope. And it was worth risking everything for.
Meanwhile, I continued to face obstacles in my day to day life. I had learned how to code and use software like photoshop, and I dreamed of going to university after graduation. But because my mother had defected, I was rejected. So I used my computer skills to find work as a photographer and photo editor.
Hoping to advance my career, I volunteered for the "shock brigade," a group sent to do manual labor at dangerous construction sites. While others prayed they wouldn't get picked for this kind of work, I went willingly, thinking it could be my way to a promotion.
I was sent to the Samjiyon district, a place known for its harsh winters. For over a month, I demolished buildings in minus 40-degree weather without protective gear. Dust filled my lungs, and sweat froze my clothes solid. My only relief was being able to sleep in a crumbling basement.
When I returned, expecting the promotion I had been promised, my supervisor simply said, "Let's wait a little longer."
That was the moment I understood my mother. She had risked her life to escape because she was after something more fundamental than a better life. She wanted to live like a human being.
In 2019, I made the same choice and escaped. With the help of Liberty in North Korea, I made it safely to South Korea and reunited with my mom.
Freedom wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be. In North Korea, my tech and computer skills had helped me survive. I had always thought that “no matter where I go, as long as I have a computer, I’ll be fine.” But in South Korea, I struggled with something as simple as a new keyboard layout. In school, subjects like social studies felt foreign because I had grown up in a completely different education system with distorted versions of history and philosophy. My dream of going to college suddenly felt impossible.
Eventually I found my place in science. The formulas and equations in math, chemistry, and physics were the constant, unchanging truths I could always count on.
I decided to major in electrical engineering. It was rare for North Korean defectors to pursue this field. But I was determined to stay ahead and not fall behind in our rapidly changing world. Now my goal is to become an engineer who can help bridge North and South Korea’s science and technology industries when the two countries are one again.
More than ever, I see that information isn’t just about knowledge and convenience—it’s a lifeline. Without access to information, you can’t see a way forward, let alone build a future.
And right now, the people I left behind are more cut off than ever before. During the pandemic, North Korea closed its borders to an unprecedented extent. Soldiers along the border had shoot-to-kill orders for anyone trying to escape. Around 90% of the markets were forced to shut down, leaving families with barely enough to eat. The UN reported that nearly half the population—12 million people—faced food insecurity, while the World Health Organization rated North Korea’s access to medical care as the lowest in the world.
A few years ago, when my father became very sick, I was able to send him money for medicine and hospital care. But most North Koreans don’t have that chance. Without someone on the outside, they are not only cut off from resources and information, but from hope itself. For many, their future depends on a lifeline from the outside world.
Supporting North Korean people and protecting human rights cannot be put off.
We have an opportunity to be a lifeline for people inside North Korea today. To remind them that they have not been forgotten. With your support, we can rescue and support more North Korean refugees, and get more outside information and technology to people inside the country. And that information can empower North Koreans to not only see a way forward, but to ultimately determine their own future.
Despite the risks, North Koreans are quietly accessing foreign media and learning about life in the outside world. Increasing their access to uncensored information is one of the most effective ways to increase change inside the country.
Liberty in North Korea partners with North Korean defectors and engineers, like Hannah, to develop technology, content, and tools tailor-made for the North Korea context. Our goal is to empower North Koreans with information about the outside world, increasing their aspirations for social and economic progress, and building pressure for change and opening.
Empower North Koreans with information access.
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New Realizations: An Interview with Hae Ri
Hae Ri escaped from North Korea out of fear that she would be sent to a political prison camp for watching South Korean TV shows after it happened to her friend's family. After arriving in China, she connected with our networks and made the journey to safety in South Korea. Today she is successfully resettled and has been working toward her goals. She is currently studying to be a nurse and took part in our English Teaching & Cultural Exchange Program.
Anna, one of our resettlement assistance coordinators, recently met up with Hae Ri to learn more about her life in North Korea and how she is doing now. Read the interview below:
Anna: Did you want to move to South Korea?
Hae Ri: After graduating from high school, I learned a lot of things about South Korea through CDs and DVDs and the stories from my mom and dad after their trips to China.
The crackdown on CDs and DVDs were not that harsh until I entered 4th grade. It wasn’t a sudden change, but a gradual one. When more people have access to CDs, you notice the change in their awareness.
When I saw the world outside of North Korea in those CDs and DVDs, I was amazed and I hoped I could see it before I died.
I couldn’t believe I was actually in South Korea when I got here because it felt like a dream. I often wished to go to South Korea during middle school whenever I watched foreign films at my friend’s house.
Funny thing is, officers and the elite are the ones who have easy access to these things. My friend's father’s job was security related, so I was able to watch many dramas at her house. One day her house was searched and her parents were sent away, so she stayed at our other friend's house. She could not keep herself from watching “Stairway to Heaven” though, so me, my friend, and my friend’s aunt all watched it too. She was eventually caught.
In a political prison camp, you are not treated as a human being and are beaten over and over. People were called in one by one, and this made me worried. If you come from a powerful family or have connections, you may be able to get yourself out of there, but that did not apply to me. If I went there, there was no way out and I would be blamed for everything. That made me determined to leave North Korea as soon as I could.
Anna: What would you like to tell to your friends who watched films together in North Korea?
Hae Ri: We shared everything when we were at school because we were the closest friends, but now I am the only one who is living in this place we all dreamed of going to. It is frustrating that I don’t know how they are doing while I am living my dream.
Anna: Do you think about your hometown a lot?
Hae Ri: I imagine what it is like there now. When I talk to my uncle over the phone, it hurts me to hear that people are having a hard time finding food every day. I also miss my friends. It would be great to reunite with them.
Anna: What is the first thing you want to do with your friends?
Hae Ri: I want to travel. I was told that Jeju Island is beautiful, and I would like to visit with my friends. That is what motivates me to do well until they can join me. I am sorry that I couldn’t even say goodbye to my best friend. It would be wonderful to see my friends again and enjoy this freedom together.
Anna: What is the biggest difference between North and South Korea?
Hae Ri: There are just too many to list and more differences than commonalities. Because there was no freedom in North Korea, after I finished school there, I didn't work. Even though I learned skills, there was no place to use them. I didn’t have any specific plans for what I should do or hopes for the future. I felt powerless, thinking that there was going to be nothing to receive in return for my hard work.
Anna: What have you achieved since your resettlement in South Korea?
Hae Ri: Being a nurse was one of the best jobs for women in North Korea. There was a school for that, but it's usually for people who have enough money for the tuition, which I couldn’t afford. Even if you went there, studying might not be your priority because people just need their degree and just need to know how to use a needle to work. Of course, I wanted to go there.
It was still hard for me to decide to study once I came to South Korea, but then a friend from church suggested that I should begin studying since I am still very young. I thought I really would achieve nothing if I continue to live like this. So now I am preparing for college, and I already passed the test to become a nursing assistant.
Anna: What was it like to hear that you were accepted?
Hae Ri: Well, I did feel a sense of accomplishment, but at the same time, it felt like a beginning for something new. I wasn’t satisfied to have the story end there. But you know, they say a journey of thousand miles begins with the first step. I just made my first step, and I need to continue moving forward. It’s also important that I don’t rush things too fast and work on one thing at a time, since I am new to a lot of things and there is a lot left to learn.
Anna: What was the first thing you tried after your resettlement?
Hae Ri: The first thing I wanted to eat was samgyeopsal (grilled pork). Back when I was in North Korea, I couldn’t afford to eat this so I would just eat fried vegetables. I only saw this through Korean dramas. In South Korea, you have a variety of foods to choose from, like pizza and hamburgers. My grandmother, who worked at Kaesong Industrial Complex, came back with a Coke one day. There was a picture on the bottle that looked like some kind of bread I didn't recognize—it was actually a picture of a hamburger! I didn’t like the taste of hamburger at first, but now I love it!
Anna: Did you visit your grandmother? Wasn’t Kaesong Industrial Complex far from where you lived?
Hae Ri: It took me two days to get to Kaesong. It was an arduous journey. I would go there once every three to four years by train. There is no express line to Kaesong, so the train would stop at several stations, and I had to wait for several hours at the station just standing or lying on the ground because there weren’t enough seats.
In North Korea, you need a certificate to move to different places, which is especially difficult for Kaesong because there is a lot of exchange going on there with South Korea. So one day, I walked for a full day to Kaesong. While I was climbing a mountain to get there, I came across the military. The military personnel asked where I was going and why I was going to Kaesong. Then you have to give all the food and everything you have in your bag so they will let you go. When I first came to South Korea, I wondered if South Korea is a lot smaller than North Korea because it only takes three hours to get almost anywhere here. It would take two days in North Korea to get to a place you can go within three hours in South Korea. Not only the transportation is bad, but there is always the risk of getting caught while you are on the move.
Anna: What was difficult when you got to South Korea?
Hae Ri: My accent. I hated to hear that no one would take me for a part-time worker because I am from North Korea. I hated myself for being born in North Korea, and I thought people were staring at me because I was weird. This made me think more about the reasons for others to keep a distance from me. Changing my accent was difficult.Studying was a big challenge as well. Back in North Korea, I didn’t have much hope for achieving anything because of my family background. My accent is a challenge for daily living, but learning how to study was the most difficult challenge for fulfilling my dream.
Anna: What were your first experiences with the outside world?
Hae Ri: At home, no one really had sincere respect for Kim Jong-il or Kim Jong-un. Watching the things about Kim Jong-un, I thought it was ridiculous that people actually cried for the leader. However, I was shocked to realize the truth about the Kim family. I thought Kim Jong-un lived a very modest life until I was in Hanawon and learned that he spends so much on living a luxurious life, which could instead be spent saving so many people who are starving. I watched the Korean film called, “When the Azalea Blooms” when I was in China. The film was about Kim Jong-il, and that film also opened my eyes and made me realize what was actually going on.
Anna: What did you think when you first watched the film?
Hae Ri: I didn’t believe it at first, but when I watched it again, things became clear. There is a huge difference between knowing the truth and not knowing it. I want more people to hear the message and share what I realized. People get lost in their daily lives without thinking about their dreams.
Anna: Is there any message you want to give to your friends?
Hae Ri: I believe unification will take place in the future, so I have to resettle here successfully so I can be an example for my friends later on and lead them. That keeps me working hard even when things are tough. That’s what my mom thinks too. I need to prove that my decision was right and that I can do well here. I always wish the best for my friends in North Korea. When I think about my future, I am always thinking of ways to help North Koreans, and ways to return the help I received from LiNK to society.
It is just a dream for now, but I would like to do something meaningful, like sending aid materials to support North Korea.
We are only able to provide crucial support for North Koreans like Hae Ri with your help!
