My father, being the oldest among his siblings, had the most children, which drew special attention from his brothers and sisters. This attention was heightened by the fact that we lived far away from Pyongyang. Although we were comparatively better off than others in our region, our finances were always a source of difficulty.
My uncles and aunt had diverse professions. The eldest was an engineer at an insulating materials factory, the second worked as a security guard, the third was a scientist, and the fourth was an army officer who held a high rank and had received prestigious honors. Unfortunately, all of them have since passed away, leaving behind a legacy of admiration.
My aunt, my brother’s only sister, married an alumnus of the late leader Kim Jong Il, and their union brought them significant benefits. She was a renowned performer in the Moranbong Band (모란봉악단) and even had her picture taken arm in arm with Kim Il Sung.
The offspring of my father’s siblings have now reached old age and have grandchildren of their own. I met them only during my childhood, and I probably wouldn’t recognize them now. We lost contact with each other as life became increasingly challenging in North Korea.
My own siblings, with whom I grew up playing and laughing, are either advanced in age or have passed away. My youngest older brother died just a year after my mother’s passing. My sister, who married an army officer from the same base as my late husband, used to lead a happy life with her children. Now, she is serving a life sentence at Gaechon Concentration Camp along with others who watched a South Korean show together and were caught. My youngest brother lives a rootless life in my hometown. The thought of my siblings brings me heartache.
My father’s siblings, once known for their strong brotherly ties, have all passed away, leaving their children to struggle to make a living. My own siblings, who once enjoyed a content life, have grown gray-haired and financially strained, living day to day with no other choice.
North Korea was not in such dire straits during my childhood or even during my singlehood. We were content with our regular rations and took pride in the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea, believing it to be the best country in the world. We were grateful and happy when we heard news about South Korea, thinking how fortunate we were to be born in North Korea rather than the South. We were educated that North Korea was the best, a people’s country to live in, and the one that the whole world envied. North Koreans, like frogs in a well, believed that their well was the best place to live, singing, “We have nothing to envy in this world” (세상에 부럼 없어라).
My father, who devoted his entire life to the nation with unwavering faith, expressed his concerns in his journal in the year before he passed away:
“I have dedicated my entire life to the nation, wholeheartedly loyal to the Leader and the Party. I raised and educated my children to follow the same path. But where is our nation heading? Why are people starving due to food shortages? Why is capitalism spreading, and merchants flooding the country? How did our nation reach this point? The entire population worked diligently for the nation and remained loyal. Why must our people endure this suffering?”
It was during the years when my father lamented the nation’s direction that North Koreans, who had once been patriotic and loyal to the Party, began leaving their homeland one by one, crossing the Aprok and Duman rivers.
I, too, said goodbye to my siblings and relatives, leaving behind the hometown where my parents and ancestors are buried. I left when life became unbearable after my husband, a uniformed guardian of the nation, passed away. It’s unfathomable that I can’t reunite with my siblings and relatives or revisit the place where I was born and raised, where my parents and ancestors rest.
