Jung Da-hyun is a reporter at The Korea Times, covering social issues in Korea, including foreign residents, education, environment and politics. Driven by a deep interest in people’s stories, she focuses on investigative and feature reporting through direct interviews and field coverage. She received the Amnesty International Korea Media Award for her “Deepfake Crisis at Schools” series. Reach her at dahyun08@koreatimes.co.kr. Always open to hearing your stories.
INTERVIEW Return home brought no relief for former sex slaves
Park Pill-keun, 97, one of seven surviving Korean victims of Japan's wartime sex slavery, recalls her past during an interview with The Korea Times at her home in Pohang, North Gyeongsang Province, March 15. Korea Times photo by Shim Hyun-chul
By Jung Da-hyun
97-year-old survivor seeks apology from Japan before she dies
Editor’s note
This is the first in a two-part series of articles on Korean victims of Japan's wartime sex slavery. Most of the 240 Korean women officially registered as victims died without ever finding justice. Now, with only seven known survivors still living, fears are mounting that their unresolved stories will fade into silence. — Ed.
During World War II, tens of thousands of young women were forcibly taken to serve as sex slaves for the Japanese military's frontline troops. Many were lured with false promises of jobs or education, only to face repeated sexual assault, physical abuse and lasting psychological trauma.
For many, the end of the war did not bring an end to their suffering.
Returning home offered no peace. Shunned and silenced, the victims, which Japan euphemistically refers to as "comfort women," were forced to bury their pasts, living out their lives in quiet anguish and carrying a pain that few were willing to acknowledge.
"I can’t put all the things into words," said Park Pill-keun, 97, one of the survivors of wartime sex slavery.
Her words carried the weight of a lifetime marked by pain, silence and hardship.
The hands of Park Pill-keun, a survivor of Japan’s wartime sex slavery, are knotted with bent bones and covered in calluses, reflecting the hardships she has gone through, March 15. The portrait is of herself from her younger days. Korea Times photo by Shim Hyun-chul
The youngest of nine children, Park was only 16 when the Japanese military took her. Her parents were out farming, and she was playing with her siblings when soldiers seized her. She had no idea where she was being taken — only that she boarded a ship in Busan bound for Japan.
When asked about what happened after she arrived, she said, "I cannot put all those things into words," unable to describe what she endured.
After enduring a year under strict control, she started to plan her escape. Park crawled through a drain in a restroom and fled the building where she had been held.
Park Pill-keun, 97, a survivor of Japan's wartime sex slavery, looks at an old photo of herself and her son, Nam Myung-shik, during an interview with The Korea Times at her home in Pohang, North Gyeongsang Province. Korea Times photo by Shim Hyun-chul
But returning home didn’t end her suffering.
"When I came back home, my mother was already on the verge of death," Park said.
Her sudden disappearance had thrown her family into panic, having no idea that their daughter had been taken to Japan. After there was no word from her for an extended period, they believed she was dead.
Shortly after Park returned, her mother died.
Park married at 19, but life offered little relief. She gave birth to seven children, losing five — most to measles. Only her third daughter and youngest son survived. Her husband died young as well, leaving Park to raise her children and support the family on her own.
“I took on any work I could find — gathering wild greens, working on other people’s farms, chopping wood in the mountains,” she said.
A copy of the official notification certifying Park Pill-keun as a registered victim of Japan's wartime sex slavery, issued in 1994 by the Korean government / Courtesy of Nam Myung-sik
For decades, she tried to bury her trauma and move on. But after Kim Hak-sun became the first former sex slave to publicly testify in 1991, Park began to reckon with her own past.
Two years later, with growing public awareness, Park found the courage to come forward. After an official investigation, she was formally registered in March 1994 as a victim of Japan’s wartime sex slavery.
Until that moment, her son, Nam Myung-shik, had no idea what his mother had endured.
"When I was young, she once told me that the Japanese are ruthless people — but never explained why," Nam said.
He first learned of her past when her official registration document arrived at their home. Shocked, he asked her what had happened, but she didn’t share the details at the time.
It wasn’t until a few years later, during a drive from Pohang to Daegu — where Nam now lives — that she finally began to speak about her experiences in Japan.
"I was so shocked and I recorded her voice," he recalled. "I thought, this is history that must never be forgotten."
But the recording was later lost due to a technical issue when Nam changed his phone.
"It felt like the sky was falling. It hurt more than losing a bundle of money," he said.
Nam has since become determined to ensure that the truth is not buried with the passing of the survivors.
"What pains me most is that so many people — even Koreans — believe the comfort women issue has already been resolved," he said.
Park Pill-keun, a survivor of Japan’s wartime sex slavery, walks along a road in Pohang, North Gyeongsang Province, on her way to visit a neighbor’s home, March 15. Korea Times photo by Shim Hyun-chul
Even 80 years after ending its colonial rule over Korea, Japan has yet to offer a full apology or proper compensation.
In 2015, when there were 47 known surviving victims, Korea and Japan reached a controversial agreement intended to resolve the issue, which included a fund of 1 billion yen ($7 million) for the surviving victims, backed by the Japanese government.
The deal sparked strong backlash, particularly among some survivors, as it was reached without their consent or input.
Amid unresolved direction about how to spend the money and facing resistance from the victims, the foundation managing the fund was dissolved in 2018.
Park and her family are still waiting for a proper apology from the Japanese government.
"It must be done before we all die," she said. "But even if I die, I want to know — even as a ghost — whether Japan truly apologized and paid compensation. That’s how desperately I want to see justice served."
Nam vowed to carry on his mother’s fight and to fight even harder in her place.
"It won’t be over even after all the survivors are gone," he said. "I’ll raise my voice even louder and keep holding Japan accountable."
Park’s son cares for her as she grows older and has become a vocal advocate for justice for the former sex slaves. But many others have lived — and died — in painful silence, without family by their side.
Nam Myung-shik, the son of Park Pill-keun, a survivor of Japan's wartime sex slavery, wipes his eyes while talking about the hardships his mother went through, at Park's home in Pohang, North Gyeongsang Province, March 15. Korea Times photo by Shim Hyun-chul
According to the Daegu Citizens' Forum for Halmuni, a nongovernmental organization that supports the victims, many survivors were unable to have children due to the physical trauma they endured.
Hoping to build families of their own and give back to society, some chose to adopt children in need.
"They believed raising those children was their way of contributing to the country and the next generation," said Seo Hyuk-soo, the organization's president.
However, those hopes were not always fulfilled. Some adopted children who had not been in contact for a long time reached out to the women, asking for money after learning about the compensation fund.
"The majority didn’t even attend the funerals. Even after their deaths, it’s organizations like ours that end up managing their final arrangements," Seo said.
"Their pain didn’t end when they returned from Japan. From the moment they were taken, their lives were never the same."