At the time, I really thought I would go insane. There was nowhere for me to go and express my feelings. I could not understand what I had done wrong to deserve all the things that were happening to me. What had I done wrong?
Feeling burdensome living at my relative’s home, my mother home went to find work in Tianjin. There, my mother was sold by the owner of the place she worked. I felt like I would burst full of rage. If she was to be married, at least she could have married a well-off man, I bellowed. My mother tried to calm me down, reassuring me that her husband was indeed a good and honest man.
From that time onwards, I had little choice but to work in the fields. Fortunately, my father in-law was in fact a good person and so my life was rather peaceful.
I became a shepherd and spent my days wandering the mountains herding cows. As the cows grazed in the fields, my days passed by leisurely as I absorbed the sunlight.
My mother forcefully repatriated back to North Korea as a result of me
Being young, I thought I might as well practice martial arts in the mountains. I was 16 years old at the time and fascinated in movies about martial arts. I practiced martial arts with the neighborhood kids.
On hearing stories of street gangs in Hong Kong movies, I created a fantasy of a man’s world. With my shepherd friends, I suggested we make our own gang. They liked the idea and began to follow me around.
Then one day, my friends and I went to the city and happened to see a night club just like in the movies. We went in. There, a conflict arose between two gangs and a fight broke out. Undoubtedly, real life was different to the movies. Even though we had practiced martial arts we were of no competition to the rivals who attacked with weapons. We fought with our own two hands.
We fought for a long time in the night club and then heard the voice of the ringleader who ordered to stop fighting.
He said, “You are not the reason I came. Work under me.” I thought that my movie had become a reality. I happily agreed thinking that the doors to my future had just opened.
From then onwards, I became part of the gang which overlooked the districts red-light zone. Simply put, I was in fact one of those gangsters but at the time, I did not think what I was doing was necessarily bad. As I got into a few fights my name got around and I just thought I was becoming popular. However, my fantasy of a gangster did not last long.
One day, I was keeping watch over our zone when 40 or so rival gangsters came and kidnapped some of our “girls.” There were only 10 of us and though we mustered all our strength to fight the opposing gang, we ended up defeated. I was stabbed in the chest and hid in an unfamiliar farmhouse.
However, the riot intensified and the police became involved. The police began investigations on all the people around me, which included my mother. As a result, our identity as defectors was revealed and my mother was forcefully repatriated back to North Korea.
I could not find my mother after returning home. I heard that North Korean authorities had visited our home during the investigation which could only mean that she had been repatriated back to North Korea.
I was wretched and mortified. There was nowhere to hide the guilt I felt in my heart. Knowing that my mother had been resent to North Korea on account of me, I wanted to die. So, when I was caught by Chinese authorities at Shenyang Station, I confessed that I was North Korean. In the end, I was also repatriated back to North Korea.
Final escape
Locked up at the detention centre, undoubtedly the National Security Agency continued to pester me. I was supposed to be detained in the detention centre but due to an illness, I was fortunately permitted to return to my home. My body was in a poor condition from the moment I had left China and so I was in position where the authorities could no longer scrutinize me.
On returning to my home, I saw my mother on the verge of insanity as she had undergone such torment and further because of my father’s hatred towards her. Of course, I could not feel free in such a home. I begged my mother for forgiveness and suggested we defect one final time back to China.
My mother and I crossed the Tumen River for the final time in the winter of 2002. We crossed the Tumen River in a shower of snow. Then, my mother and I stood on the Chinese field facing the North and bowed several times. If there was a god somewhere, we hoped that he would listen to our prayers.
“This is the last time. Truly, please, please don’t let us get caught again.”
After bowing several times, we took a taxi through the snowstorm and safely headed for Yeongil. Whether it was because of my Chinese language skills or that the weather was extremely cold, the officer at the inspection gate passed us through the moment I spoke and we entered Yeongil with little difficultly.
From then on, I worked as a welder and earned an honest living. I saved enough money and with this money came to South Korea in 2005. Only now in Korea, I feel safe.
Even now, if I talk about the old days with my mother, my mother cannot stop crying. Even I cannot hold my tears as I talks about those times. However, I do not know if I could ever understand my mother’s thoughts.
People say that pain heals and beautifies after time. However, whenever I converse with my mother, I have never thought that this pain has beautified but rather the pain seems clearer as I am in front of her.
Even if Korea unifies, I do not know whether her pain will subside. Could we ever face my father and smile like the old days? I do not really know what the Juche ideology is, but I do know that I lost my father to it. I do not know whether I will be able to meet my father unless this ideology dissipates, even if Korea unifies. The only thing left is mere sadness.
