The individual, identified only as “Mr. K” for security reasons, crossed into China in late 2024 before reaching South Korea through a third country. Now undergoing resettlement, he spoke to South Korean media and human rights investigators in a series of confidential interviews, providing rare insight from someone who lived within the tightly controlled system until just months ago.
Constant Hunger, Crushing Control
“The hunger is everywhere,” Mr. K said. “People have adapted to eat less, skip meals, or survive on corn porridge. Rice is a luxury in my hometown. Meat? That’s for the powerful.”
He described how food shortages have worsened since the COVID-19 border closures began in 2020, which drastically reduced informal trade with China—previously a vital economic lifeline for many North Koreans. With state rations nearly non-existent in many regions and markets under tighter restrictions, survival often depends on small-scale bartering or illegal farming.
But feeding one’s family is only part of the challenge.
“You have to pretend. Always. Pretend to be loyal. Pretend to be happy. Pretend not to know what’s happening.”
Fear as a Way of Life
According to Mr. K, fear is embedded in every part of North Korean society. Neighborhoods are organized into surveillance cells, with citizens encouraged to report on one another. Children are taught from a young age to revere the Kim family and report any “anti-state behavior,” even by their parents.
“If someone speaks carelessly, they disappear. It happens fast and quietly,” he said. “We all know what that means.”
He recalled how one neighbor, a father of two, vanished after being caught listening to a banned foreign radio broadcast. The entire family was reportedly sent to a reeducation facility in a remote province.
Information is Power—and a Crime
Mr. K also confirmed that access to outside information, while dangerous, is still spreading through flash drives, foreign cell signals near the Chinese border, and underground markets.
“I saw a South Korean drama once. Just one. It was about a family eating dinner and laughing. It didn’t seem like propaganda. It felt… real. That’s when I began to question everything.”
However, discovery of such media can result in severe punishment, including imprisonment or forced labor.
A Controlled Childhood, A Stolen Youth
Mr. K grew up in a provincial town where electricity was unreliable, internet access was nonexistent, and the only books available were filled with revolutionary slogans and stories of the Kim dynasty.
“We didn’t learn real history. We learned to worship. Every school lesson started with praise for the Supreme Leader. If you asked the wrong question, you were marked.”
He said his dream as a child was simple: to live in a home where the lights always worked and the food didn’t run out.
Hope Beyond the Border
Despite the trauma of escape—being hunted by border guards, nearly starving in China, and enduring months in hiding—Mr. K says he has no regrets.
“I didn’t flee for freedom,” he said. “I fled because I wanted to live without lying every day. Freedom came after.”
He is now receiving psychological counseling and adjusting to a radically different life in Seoul, where he says the hardest part is realizing how much he didn’t know.
“I still wake up wondering if someone’s listening. But here, I don’t have to smile if I don’t want to.”
Global Implications
Human rights groups say testimonies like Mr. K’s are crucial in documenting the truth about life inside North Korea. While satellite images and expert analysis offer clues, firsthand accounts remain the most powerful tool for understanding a society designed to remain invisible.
“This kind of testimony helps cut through the regime’s façade,” says Han Ji-yeon, a Seoul-based advocate with Liberty in North Korea. “It reminds the world that behind the parades and propaganda, there are millions of people suffering in silence.”
As more defectors come forward, their voices offer a fragile but essential window into one of the world’s most tightly sealed societies—each story a crack in the wall of secrecy built by the Kim regime.