Korea’s drug crisis deepens — but some are fighting back

A Korea Customs Service official displays confiscated narcotics at the Seoul Main Customs office in Gangnam District, Seoul, July 29. Yonhap

Park Se-hyuk, 52, and Ahn Jae-hyun, 48, who together endured more than 40 years of drug addiction and faced numerous convictions, managed not only to quit but to completely turn their lives around — becoming drug recovery counselors themselves.

The secret, according to Reborn House, a privately run rehabilitation center in Gimhae, South Gyeongsang Province, is simple: having fun every day.

Operated by Han Bu-sik, who overcame his own years of addiction, the facility doesn’t preach or push for reform. Instead, it focuses on helping users rediscover joy and rebuild their lives.

Once considered largely drug-free, Korea has seen a growing drug problem in recent years. According to the Supreme Prosecutors’ Office, more than 27,600 drug offenders were apprehended in 2023, about 1.5 times higher than the year before and the first time the total exceeded 20,000.

There are growing signs that international drug cartels are extending their operations into Korea.

In April, acting on intelligence from U.S. authorities, Korean officials inspected a ship arriving from Mexico at a port in Gangneung, Gangwon Province, seizing nearly one ton of cocaine — the largest haul ever recorded by the Korea Customs Service.

In January, a 55-year-old Filipino Canadian was indicted for converting smuggled liquid cocaine into 61 kilograms of solid form — enough for an estimated 1.22 million doses — alongside two Colombians at a warehouse in Hoengseong, Gangwon Province.

Officers from the Korea Coast Guard Region-East and Seoul Main Customs search a vessel docked at Okgye Port in Gangneung, Gangwon Province, April 2.
Courtesy of Korea Coast Guard Region-East

As drug-related crimes surge, Korea’s support system for recovery remains limited.

Modeled after Japan’s drug addiction rehabilitation centers, Korea’s first privately run facilities opened in 2012. At their peak, five operated nationwide, but most later closed due to financial troubles or controversy over operating without proper registration. Today, only two remain — one in Incheon and another in Gimhae.

Park and Ahn, both former drug addicts who went through rehabilitation at the Gimhae facility and now work there as community advocates, told The Korea Times that reconnecting with people and rediscovering joy in everyday life are key to staying off drugs.

Park’s drug use began in 1999 during a visit to Cebu, the Philippines, and quickly spiraled out of control. Starting in 2004, he spent a total of 13 years in and out of prison for drug-related offenses, continuing to use and sell after each release with no intent to stop. That changed in 2019 after he fell in love following a two-year sentence at Cheongsong Prison. He chose to begin recovery and entered Reborn House.

What mattered most to Park at the facility was being treated with dignity. Sharing meals, talking and laughing with others — those ordinary moments, he said, played a key role in his recovery.

“When you’re using, you’re always alone. You don’t have time to talk to people,” Park said. “But being around others in everyday life helped me more than anything.”

Reborn House, a drug addiction rehabilitation center in Gimhae, South Gyeongsang Province / Courtesy of Reborn House

Ahn Jae-hyun, 48, who also works as a drug recovery advocate at Reborn House, agrees that trying to quit alone often leads to failure.

“To quit drugs, you need to eliminate time spent alone,” Ahn told The Korea Times. “When you’re bored, that’s when you start craving again.”

In his younger years, Ahn ran a gambling parlor where drugs were easy to find, but he avoided them. That changed in the early 2000s, after his business collapsed and he faced major financial losses. Desperate, he tried meth for the first time, mixing it with soju. What followed was a 20-year cycle of addiction, dealing, arrests and relapse.

After his release from prison in May 2023, he continued using until friends were arrested again that July. Tired of the cycle, he checked into a hospital, where he learned about Reborn House.

So what did he do there? What were the rules?

There weren’t any, he said.

“I just tried to enjoy each day as it came,” Ahn said. “Drugs start as something fun but soon become a way to avoid withdrawal. Here, cooking, spending time with others, going on outings — it’s a whole new life. I used to be alone in a motel room getting high. Now I do things I never could before.”

When asked what drove him to create Reborn House, Han Bu-sik simply said, “Because nothing like it existed.” A former addict himself, Han knew exactly what was missing.

Han Bu-sik, director of Reborn House, holds a Korean wood carving inscribed with the word “hope” outside the facility in Gimhae, South Gyeongsang Province, Feb. 23, 2023. The piece was made by a resident in rehabilitation. Korea Times photo by Ha Sang-yun.

“I was deep into drugs but wanted to quit, so I checked into a hospital in 2006,” Han said. “After a year, they told me I could leave — but I knew I’d relapse if I went home. I needed help, but there was nowhere to turn. So I went back to school.”

From there, he steadily advanced toward his goal — earning a degree, passing the social worker exam and completing a year of training at a hospital. In 2019, he became a licensed mental health social worker and opened Reborn House the following year.

After nearly seven years of helping others recover from drug addiction, Han believes that once users understand the basics, the key to recovery is simply spending each day with meaning and happiness.

“You have to start thinking, ‘Hey, I’ve been clean for six months, and this isn’t so bad,’” he said. “That mindset shift is our goal, so we offer programs without pressure — join if you want, or don’t. That’s fine too.”

The model for his rehab center came from Japan, where Han studied recovery programs and visited various facilities. He said Korea should learn from Japan’s well-established system, where drug offenders can serve part of their sentence in treatment centers instead of prison. He argued that Korea, too, should introduce some form of compulsory treatment in such cases.

“If you're expelled from the facility, you have to go back to prison. So while you're there, you naturally make an effort to recover, and at some point, that effort becomes part of you,” Han said.

He added that Korea still has a long way to go in addressing drug addiction.

“Korea hasn’t really treated drug addiction,” he said. “Treatment works. It’s frustrating to hear people say recovery is impossible when we haven’t even tried. Why do we assume addicts can't recover?”