Latest news with #JihyangKim
Miami Herald
21-07-2025
- Politics
- Miami Herald
The painful road to freedom: A North Korean escapee's story
July 21 (UPI) --The following account was presented by Jihyang Kim at a recent forum of the North Korean Young Leaders' Assembly held at the Victims of Communism Memorial Foundation in Washington, D.C. The assembly is an annual event gathering young North Korean escapees to engage with the U.S. executive and congressional branches, think tanks and NGOs. My name is Jihyang Kim. I escaped from North Korea in the spring of 2012, when I was 19 years old. Today, I stand before you not only as a Fulbright scholar pursuing my master's degree in the United States, but also as a survivor -- and a witness -- of the brutal realities of life under a communist regime. I want to share with you how the ideology of communism stripped me and millions of others of our basic rights, dignity, and dreams. 1: North Korea - A life determined by the state Growing up under North Korea's totalitarian rule, I was taught that the state came before the individual, that loyalty to the regime was more important than personal dreams and that questioning the system was dangerous. As a young girl, I dreamed of becoming a novelist. I was fascinated by literature and wanted to study Japanese to read detective novels in their original language. Despite being the top student in my class, I couldn't apply for the language school because my family couldn't afford the required bribe. In North Korea, merit is meaningless without political loyalty or financial backing. This was my first clear experience of how the system worked -- not for the people, but against them. The promise of equality under communism was a lie. Instead, I saw corruption, oppression and injustice. That cognitive dissonance planted the seed of rebellion in me. I began to question the system I had been raised to worship. The second turning point came in 2009, when the North Korean regime implemented a disastrous currency reform. Overnight, our savings became worthless. I still remember seeing the old bills scattered in the market like trash. Inflation soared and food vanished. My family starved. I lie on the cold floor, too weak to move, and decided to risk everything for a chance at life. I realized if I stayed, I would die, anyway, not with dignity, but in silence. 2: China - Escaping the regime, entering another cage Crossing the border into China did not mean freedom. It meant becoming stateless -- an invisible person with no rights, no protection and no home. I was no longer hungry, but I was no longer human, either. The Chinese government does not recognize North Korean defectors as refugees, so we are hunted like criminals, deported if caught. I became one of the many North Korean women sold into forced marriages, treated as property and silenced through violence. At 19, I watched university students -- my peers-- walk past me in the streets. I didn't envy their clothes or phones. I envied their freedom to dream. I heard villagers joke about "buying" North Korean brides and brag about beating them if they tried to escape. I lived in fear, not only for myself, but for my baby. I became a mother in China, but I could not offer my son legal protection, education or safety. I was a mother in name, but powerless in reality. 3: Still trapped in the system's shadows Today, I'm grateful. I am studying in the United States, supported by countless people who believe in me. But I have not forgotten the millions still trapped under the same system that nearly destroyed me. North Korea's regime continues to control every aspect of its citizens' lives: movement, thoughts, speech, even love. In China, over 10,000 North Korean women remain trapped in forced relationships, their human rights violated daily (North Korea Human Rights Information Center, 2023). In 2017, South Korean news media reported that 20% of these women are forced into online sexual exploitation. Worse still, around 10,000 children born to these undocumented women have no legal identity. They cannot go to school, receive medical care or even prove their existence. These are not isolated tragedies. These are the long shadows cast by communist authoritarianism. 4: Why this matters People often ask me why I risked my life to escape. My answer is simple: because I wanted to live with dignity. Under communism, I was denied that right. The ideology promised equality, but delivered only fear, hunger and silence. It punished ambition, crushed individuality and destroyed families. What I experienced is not just a personal story -- it is a warning. Communism, when weaponized by dictatorship, erases the human spirit. It uses beautiful words like "justice" and "equality" to hide systems of control and cruelty. I am no longer a voiceless girl hiding in a dark room. I am here to speak for those who still cannot. I am here to tell you that the victims of communism are not just numbers in a textbook. They are children who starve, women who are sold and dreamers who are silenced. I survived. And now, I speak -- not because I am brave, but because silence is complicity. Thank you. Jihyang Kim, a North Korean escapee and Fulbright scholar, was born in Hyesan, Ryanggang Province. She escaped from North Korea in 2012, driven by the famine and skyrocketing inflation that followed the country's disastrous currency reform. After fleeing to China, where she lived as a non-person and suffered exploitation for several years, she managed to reach South Korea in 2016. Despite only having an elementary education, Jihyang excelled academically in South Korea, earning numerous awards. In college, she championed social integration between South Koreans and North Korean escapees. Jihyang is passionate about education, which she believes is the foundation for personal and community transformation. She is preparing for the opportunity to empower North Korean youth with high-quality, democratic education after reunification. Copyright 2025 UPI News Corporation. All Rights Reserved.
UPI
21-07-2025
- Politics
- UPI
The painful road to freedom: A North Korean escapee's story
A general view of Sinuiju, North Korea, taken from across the Yalu River from the Chinese city of Dandong, Liaoning Province, China, in 2013, a year after Jihyang Kim escaped from North Korea. File Photo by How Hwee Young/EPA July 21 (UPI) -- The following account was presented by Jihyang Kim at a recent forum of the North Korean Young Leaders' Assembly held at the Victims of Communism Memorial Foundation in Washington, D.C. The assembly is an annual event gathering young North Korean escapees to engage with the U.S. executive and congressional branches, think tanks and NGOs. My name is Jihyang Kim. I escaped from North Korea in the spring of 2012, when I was 19 years old. Today, I stand before you not only as a Fulbright scholar pursuing my master's degree in the United States, but also as a survivor -- and a witness -- of the brutal realities of life under a communist regime. I want to share with you how the ideology of communism stripped me and millions of others of our basic rights, dignity, and dreams. 1: North Korea - A life determined by the state Growing up under North Korea's totalitarian rule, I was taught that the state came before the individual, that loyalty to the regime was more important than personal dreams and that questioning the system was dangerous. As a young girl, I dreamed of becoming a novelist. I was fascinated by literature and wanted to study Japanese to read detective novels in their original language. Despite being the top student in my class, I couldn't apply for the language school because my family couldn't afford the required bribe. In North Korea, merit is meaningless without political loyalty or financial backing. This was my first clear experience of how the system worked -- not for the people, but against them. The promise of equality under communism was a lie. Instead, I saw corruption, oppression and injustice. That cognitive dissonance planted the seed of rebellion in me. I began to question the system I had been raised to worship. The second turning point came in 2009, when the North Korean regime implemented a disastrous currency reform. Overnight, our savings became worthless. I still remember seeing the old bills scattered in the market like trash. Inflation soared and food vanished. My family starved. I lie on the cold floor, too weak to move, and decided to risk everything for a chance at life. I realized if I stayed, I would die, anyway, not with dignity, but in silence. 2: China - Escaping the regime, entering another cage Crossing the border into China did not mean freedom. It meant becoming stateless -- an invisible person with no rights, no protection and no home. I was no longer hungry, but I was no longer human, either. The Chinese government does not recognize North Korean defectors as refugees, so we are hunted like criminals, deported if caught. I became one of the many North Korean women sold into forced marriages, treated as property and silenced through violence. At 19, I watched university students -- my peers-- walk past me in the streets. I didn't envy their clothes or phones. I envied their freedom to dream. I heard villagers joke about "buying" North Korean brides and brag about beating them if they tried to escape. I lived in fear, not only for myself, but for my baby. I became a mother in China, but I could not offer my son legal protection, education or safety. I was a mother in name, but powerless in reality. 3: Still trapped in the system's shadows Today, I'm grateful. I am studying in the United States, supported by countless people who believe in me. But I have not forgotten the millions still trapped under the same system that nearly destroyed me. North Korea's regime continues to control every aspect of its citizens' lives: movement, thoughts, speech, even love. In China, over 10,000 North Korean women remain trapped in forced relationships, their human rights violated daily (North Korea Human Rights Information Center, 2023). In 2017, South Korean news media reported that 20% of these women are forced into online sexual exploitation. Worse still, around 10,000 children born to these undocumented women have no legal identity. They cannot go to school, receive medical care or even prove their existence. These are not isolated tragedies. These are the long shadows cast by communist authoritarianism. 4: Why this matters People often ask me why I risked my life to escape. My answer is simple: because I wanted to live with dignity. Under communism, I was denied that right. The ideology promised equality, but delivered only fear, hunger and silence. It punished ambition, crushed individuality and destroyed families. What I experienced is not just a personal story -- it is a warning. Communism, when weaponized by dictatorship, erases the human spirit. It uses beautiful words like "justice" and "equality" to hide systems of control and cruelty. I am no longer a voiceless girl hiding in a dark room. I am here to speak for those who still cannot. I am here to tell you that the victims of communism are not just numbers in a textbook. They are children who starve, women who are sold and dreamers who are silenced. I survived. And now, I speak -- not because I am brave, but because silence is complicity. Thank you. Jihyang Kim, a North Korean escapee and Fulbright scholar, was born in Hyesan, Ryanggang Province. She escaped from North Korea in 2012, driven by the famine and skyrocketing inflation that followed the country's disastrous currency reform. After fleeing to China, where she lived as a non-person and suffered exploitation for several years, she managed to reach South Korea in 2016. Despite only having an elementary education, Jihyang excelled academically in South Korea, earning numerous awards. In college, she championed social integration between South Koreans and North Korean escapees. Jihyang is passionate about education, which she believes is the foundation for personal and community transformation. She is preparing for the opportunity to empower North Korean youth with high-quality, democratic education after reunification.
