Returning Home to a Free North Korea | A Glimpse of Reunification in 2045
By: Eunsook Jang
Eunsook is a 2024 LiNK US Scholarship grantee, a Fulbright Scholar, and a North Korean defector pursuing a master’s degree in international development at Brandeis University, where she focuses on post-conflict, economic, and human development. She holds a bachelor’s degree in political science and international peace from Korea University.
In the spring of 2045, on a flight from Incheon to Pyongyang, Emma's hands tremble. Her husband Sam reaches over and, steadily, holds them without a word. She turns to the window and stares into the pale clouds below the wing.
“I’ve waited 30 years for this day,” she whispers. “But now that I’m here… it doesn’t feel real. I hope this isn’t a dream.”
“Maybe it’s both,” Sam replies. “The dream became real.”
She closes her eyes. In 2015, at just fifteen years old, she crossed the frozen Yalu River in a dark March morning, leaving without saying a proper goodbye to her mother. That guilt, its intensity, has never faded, not even after thirty years. It simply learns to live quietly beside her.
“Will Mom recognize me?” she asks. “We parted when I was fifteen. I’m forty-five now.”
“She will,” Sam answers. “How could a mother not recognize her daughter?”
Emma says nothing. Will I... be able to recognize her? She does not say it aloud this time.
An announcement comes through the cabin speakers: "This is the first return flight for North Korean defectors to their hometowns. We know how much you have endured. We will carry you safely home."
It is a rare moment of comfort from a South Korean voice. Moments later, the plane lifts into the sky.
An hour later, the plane lands in Pyongyang. Emma weeps quietly, overwhelmed by the thought that across so short a distance, lives in the South and the North had been so utterly, irreconcilably different. For thirty years, she had not been able to cross it, that gap, so small.
From Pyongyang, the journey to Hyesan continues by bus. As the skyline of Pyongyang passes past the window, its taller buildings, its broad avenues, Emma allows herself the fragile hope: perhaps Hyesan has developed too.
After five hours on the road, the bus arrives at Hyesan Station. The apartments and the lay of the land are almost entirely unchanged from when she had left thirty years earlier, as if time had refused to move, as if it had been waiting for her. Emma found herself hoping the same might be true of her mother.
A thirty minutes' walk from the station: that is where her mother's house is.
As if drawn by a magnet, her feet start moving on their own.
Sam asks if they are going the right way. Without hesitation, "Yes," Emma replies. "I used to walk this road every day as a child. It’s still in my body."
He points to a bus queue down the street. "There's a bus queue over there. Want to take it part of the way?" She shakes her head gently. "If you don't mind, I'd like to walk." "Then we’ll walk," he replies without hesitation. Emma feels another surge of gratitude, grips on his arm and follows her memory home.
Since Emma left her hometown in 2015, the North Korean regime has conducted ten more nuclear tests as of 2045. And yet the face of this neighborhood has not changed by a single detail. The freedom and human rights that should have been the people's return on those tests have been vaporized into the air.
They arrive at a fork in the road. To the left, an alley leads toward the house. A familiar-looking house comes into view, enclosed by a wooden fence. She stops and stands motionless. It is the house, it is her house.
Several minutes pass. Then the door opens. Emma feels her breath catch. For a second, she forgets how to move.
After thirty years, she is here.
This is what the micropolitics of reunification looks like. Grand narratives, speeches, and legal texts may provide its official language, but its lived realities lie in moments, in feelings, like this: a mother and daughter recognizing each other after thirty years apart.
Author’s note: I dedicate this piece to my father in South Korea, who has never once wavered in encouraging my studies, as if realizing through me the freedom to pursue the dreams that were taken from him. And to my mother, who remains in North Korea: This piece is my proof that your daughter has not turned away from your suffering, but is working, in her own small way, to fight against it. I hope to see you, even if only in my dreams tonight. I love and miss you beyond my expression.
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Eunsook is a participant of the LiNK English Language Program (LELP), which serves to not only help North Korean defectors build confidence and skills in English, but develop their capacity as advocates for this issue. To that end, we partnered with select LELP “columnists” to write and polish personal essays through multiple rounds of external feedback and revision. Our goal is to have more North Koreans share their stories directly and lead efforts to change the narrative.
We believe the North Korean people can achieve their liberty in our lifetime.
Opportunities like LELP invest in the people building that future now. Help more North Koreans find their voice, reach their goals, and lead change on this issue.
Webcomic: Escape From North Korea
By: Ju Ok Jeon
This webtoon, created by North Korean escapee Ju Ok Jeon, reflects the real risks many North Koreans face when fleeing their home in search of safety, dignity, and the chance to live freely.
About the Artist
Ju Ok Jeon is a North Korean defector who escaped in 2013. Having lived under the Kim Jong Un regime in an oppressed land, she conveys—through webtoons and comics—how precious the values of freedom and dignity truly are, with both sincerity and storytelling power.
Support Ju Ok’s work: @unistudio_juok
From Artist to Activist
As a kid in North Korea, Ju Ok was famous at school for one thing—drawing portraits of people passing gas. Her classmates flocked to her, asking to be drawn in exchange for snacks and even small amounts of money. Nothing made Ju Ok happier than to see people’s faces light up with a big smile, and to laugh together over her creations.
But things came to a halt when a teacher pulled her aside for “disrupting the school environment” with her “unrevolutionary” drawings. Ju Ok’s art supplies were confiscated, and she was warned that her parents could be punished for failing to educate their children.
“I vowed to never draw again because my simple drawings could bring harm to my family. But no matter how hard I studied or worked, opportunities were limited because my family belonged to the labor class. After a relative defected, my social classification [songbun] fell, leaving me destined for a life of forced labor. Realizing there was no hope or future, I decided to escape.”
In freedom, Ju Ok found that there was a lack of public understanding and empathy about North Korean human rights. A few years ago, her husband, who is also an artist, encouraged her to try drawing again.
“After being severely scolded as a child, I hated anything related to drawing. But when my husband told me I have talent, I got chills—thinking, ‘Did I actually used to like this?’
Through illustration, I want to share the reality of North Korea I experienced, my journey toward freedom, and my resettlement in a free society—so the world can hear the voices of those who still long for freedom inside North Korea.”
Ju Ok hopes her art will reach more people and increase support for this issue. In 2025, she participated in the LiNK English Speech Program to hone her storytelling and English speaking abilities.
“The North Korean issue is not only a domestic matter on the Korean Peninsula but also a complex international issue. That is why it is vital to raise awareness globally—and for North Korean defectors to share their stories directly in English. LiNK’s program has played an important role in helping me move toward my life goals.”
Reimagining North Korea’s Future
Liberty in North Korea helps North Koreans reach freedom and reach their full potential through programs that build their capacity to succeed and lead change. With the right support and tools, they’re sharing their stories, utilizing their talents, and building their careers with unwavering purpose—to create a future where every North Korean person can live free and full lives.
Invest in the next generation of North Korean advocates, storytellers, changemakers, and entrepreneurs, like Ju Ok.
