Gunshots, screams, eerie laughter: South Korea's border island Ganghwa is being bombarded nightly with blood-curdling sounds, part of a new campaign by the nuclear-armed North that is driving residents to despair.
Photos by Anthony Wallace.
Words by Claire Lee
The campaign is the latest manifestation of steadily declining ties between the two Koreas this year, which have also seen Pyongyang test ever more powerful missiles and bombard the South with trash-carrying balloons.
Since July 2024, North Korea has been broadcasting the noises for huge chunks of almost every day from loudspeakers along the border.
A North Korean loudspeaker (C) is seen from South Korea's border island of Ganghwa
North Korea has done propaganda broadcasts before, said 66-year-old villager Ahn Hyo-cheol, but they used to focus on criticising the South's leaders, or idealising the North.
Now "there were sounds like a wolf howling, and ghostly sounds", he said.
The northern point of Ganghwa -- an island in the Han river estuary on the Yellow Sea -- is only about two kilometres from the North.
Below are views of North Korea, seen across the Demilitarized Zone (DMZ) from the Ganghwa Peace Observatory, on the South Korean island of Ganghwa.
A decibel sound meter is used to measure sound from a North Korean loudspeaker located on mountains beyond a fence from South Korea's border island of Ganghwa
Resident Choi Hyoung-chan walks outside one of his family run guesthouses, which has seen a recent drop in visitors
Mountains in North Korea can be seen in the background
Kim Yun-suk prepares baked sweet potatoes at night in her home
Kim Yun-suk and her husband Choi Hyoung-chan stand in their home as they listen to sounds from loudspeakers in North Korea that they recorded on a phone
Choi Hyoung-chan (L), a 60-year-old resident, said the South Korean government had failed to protect vulnerable civilians on the frontier.
"They should come here and try to live with these sounds for just ten days," he told AFP, referring to officials in Seoul.
"I doubt they could even endure a single day."
I find myself taking headache medicine almost all the time," An Mi-hee, 37, told AFP, adding that prolonged sleep deprivation due to the noise has also led to anxiety, eye pain, facial tremors and drowsiness.
"Our kids can't sleep either, so they've developed mouth sores and are dozing off at school."
Distraught and desperate, An travelled to Seoul and got on her knees to beg lawmakers at the National Assembly to find a solution, breaking down in tears as she described the island's suffering.
"It would actually be better if there were a flood, a fire, or even an earthquake, because those events have a clear recovery timeline," An said.
"We have no idea if this will go on until the person in North Korea who gives the orders dies, or if it could be cut off at any moment. We just don't know."
A decibel meter is used to measure sounds on a road that runs along a border fence
In the almost pitch-black fields, sinister noises echoed as the stars in the clear night sky shone beautifully alongside the coastal road lights, creating a stark and unsettling contrast.