Departure day arrived. I sat at the airport, waiting for customs control. I knew they could check everything: laptop, phone, camera, luggage. The hidden memory cards burned against my skin.
The officer looked at my passport for a long time. Then at me. He asked to see the camera. I handed it over, holding my breath. He scrolled through a few “allowed” photos on the last, clean flash drive.
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He nodded and handed the camera back. I walked through the metal detector. My legs felt like jelly. I had smuggled them out. I had smuggled out the truth. As soon as the plane took off, I exhaled for the first time in a week.
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Upon returning home, I published these photos. The reaction was instant. The world saw North Korea without the embellishments. But the regime’s reaction didn’t take long either.