May is the busiest time of year, when authorities push every citizen to plant rice to meet the country's agricultural needs. Defectors tell Daily NK what life is like on the farms

The busiest time of year for the North Korean people falls from mid-May until the end of June, as the authorities push every citizen to complete the nation’s rice planting tasks. Everybody is expected to participate, from elementary school children and university students to enlisted men, state employees, and members of the Women’s Unions and the People’s Units.

During this critical time, the authorities only allow the markets to open from 5-8pm. Under such restrictions, the people find it endlessly tiring just to get by. Daily NK sat down with a number of defectors to hear their experiences during the farm mobilisation period.

Pak Dong-hui [pseudonym], was born in South Hwanghae Province. Mobilised to the farms during elementary and middle school.

In third grade [year four in the UK] I would have to go out after school and lug water at a farm eight kilometres away. I would draw water for hours, which was so tiring there were times when I suddenly collapsed on the street on my way home. My clothes would get covered in mud. I was so exhausted that sometimes I’d wet the bed at night. During my fourth year of middle school our grade was told to go to other cities and counties to assist there. There were four grades with around 40 kids in each. Altogether around 200 individuals would form one work unit.

At the farm I slept in one room with six other people; a farming couple, their child, and three other student workers. We would get one bowl of mixed corn and rice before going out to the fields at dawn. My feet would get cold early in the morning and then my lower back would start to hurt. I was so tired I just used to fall asleep on my feet.

I was so exhausted that sometimes I’d wet the bed at night.

The most difficult aspect was not the work, it was the hunger. On windy days I would wander near the apricot trees to see if any had fallen off. A few students would have corn, beans and cornmeal that their mothers had prepared in advance for them to snack on, but most students didn’t even have that. Girl students tended to bear the hunger, but the boys couldn’t take it and would secretly steal a chicken from another work unit and cook it over a fire made of straw.



Thankfully, my birthday always fell in the middle of the mobilisation period, and a teacher would give me bowl of rice with one boiled egg. Each student is supposed to deal [with] three seedbeds a day but if it was your birthday you had to pay back the price of the rice by attending to five seedbeds.

When I was in North Korea, I always thought it would be best if the month of May never came around at all.

There were two students who were in charge of the machine that processed the seedlings and one boy had his hand amputated at the wrist after it got stuck in the machine. The farm management committee gave him a TV but the boy had to quit school because he couldn’t write anything without his right hand. When I look back on my memories of farm mobilisation, I think of that boy. When I was in North Korea, I always thought it would be best if the month of May never came around at all.

Chae Hyok [pseudonym], was born in North Pyongan Province. Mobilised to the farms while employed as a factory labourer.

Up until the 1990s, state employees were only mobilised from 20 May until 10 June, but this was later extended to 20 July due to the lack of resources. The authorities are fond of the term “battle.” For example, “rice planting battle,” “weeding battle,” and “mowing battle.” It’s a bit of a silly word.



People with bicycles could arrive by 9am. But those who had to walk couldn’t get there until 10am, and they were so tired by the time they arrived they weren’t very efficient. People work until midday when everyone would stop for a bit of food and some alcohol.

Facebook Twitter Pinterest North Korean co-operative farm workers spread fertiliser in a rice field in Unpha county in July 2005. Photograph: Ho/Reuters

The afternoon work went from 2-5pm but the state labourers just saw it as filling in the time in the absence of any contract. State enterprises must have written confirmation that they participated in the farming tasks, which they tended to obtain dishonestly.

Lee Son Hui [pseudonym], b. Kangwon Province. Mobilised to the farms when serving as the head of a People’s Unit.

In May it’s commonly said that "no matter what you do, [the work] never ends." The farm management committees tell the neighbourhood offices where workers are needed. The offices then order the mobilisation of task forces made up of People’s Units and Women’s Union members under their watch.



Women’s Union members are typically the breadwinners of their families thanks to their market activities. They are so busy just getting enough to eat that of all the uncompensated mobilisation tasks throughout the year, the May farming tasks are the worst. They must attend as it is Party orders, and their anger just continues to rise while they suffer in silence. A contracted amount of work is best so that they can finish the work and get some time to go out to the markets. This amount will differ according to the number of people in the unit.

They must attend as it is Party orders, and their anger just continues to rise while they suffer in silence.

Members of the Women’s Union who don’t show up have to provide 1kg of corn per day as payment. This solves the issue of lunches and snacks for the workers, and when the rice planting is over there is sometimes enough left over to host a small gathering.



However, women who go out into the streets are still stopped and questioned, even when the contracted work is finished. This is because going out in the street [to sell goods] is restricted during the farm mobilisation period. [Authorities] demand that you show a certificate saying you’ve completed your tasks.

Facebook Twitter Pinterest A North Korean woman carries her belongings on her head as she walks through green rice paddies on the outskirts of Pyongyang. Photograph: Wally Santana/AP

As the markets don’t open until 5pm, some sensible women display signs on their door or on their roof, proclaiming “footwear,” or “manufactured goods.” That way, people going past can see it. This kind of thing is common now, and when the farming season rolls around signs can be seen on every house. Women on the street can also be seen holding signs and product advertisements.

Hang Song [pseudonym], was born in Pyongyang and mobilised to the farms while completing military service.

I was based in Pyongyang throughout my military service. When May came around, many of the weaker soldiers in our unit were mobilised out to the farms. There was no strict military training there, and you could steal and eat food from neighbouring houses and from the farm itself.



Out of 70 soldiers, only 10 remained in the unit and the other 60 were sent away to the farms surrounding Pyongyang for two months to get some nutrients. Soldiers lodged in the farm’s propaganda room. They would transport the rice seedlings on an A-frame, and would spend time shoring up the ridges along the rice paddies. The military volunteers always performed their tasks well. The farming management office liked the soldiers were afraid of them at the same time.