But it marked the beginning of 56 years of separation for Phuc.
It was not until late December 2024 that the man, now living in Dak Lak Province in the Central Highlands, finally reunited with his twin brother, Nguyen Chan, who lives in Ninh Thuan in Central Vietnam. "I could not believe someone could look so much like me until I saw a video sent by a neighbor," Phuc says.
He immediately reached out to the video’s creator to connect with the man he saw in it. After comparing details, the two men realized they were biological brothers. That revelation marked the beginning of a remarkable story.
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Hoang Van Phuc (L) and his twin brother Nguyen Chan reunite after 56 years apart. Photo courtesy of Tuan Vy |
In 1966 a couple in Ninh Thuan welcomed twin boys. Struggling to make ends meet, they decided to send the older one, Phuc, to an orphanage.
When the Vietnam War ended in 1975, the orphanage housing Phuc closed, and he was transferred to another facility over 100 km away.
Longing to reunite with the nun who had cared for him since infancy, he ran away in 1977 with a friend, climbing the orphanage wall in the middle of the night.
"I wanted to visit the nun and ask about my biological parents," he says.
However, upon meeting the nun, he was immediately placed for adoption with a nearby family. Life as an adopted child was harsh—he was denied an education and spent his days herding cattle and cutting grass.
After three years the nun, seeing his difficult circumstances, arranged for him to live with a more affluent family in Dak Lak, hoping for a brighter future. At 15 he arrived at his new home, where his main household tasks were drilling wells and growing coffee.
Although his adoptive parents treated Phuc well, one time they suspected him when some money went missing. He was accused of theft, scolded and interrogated. Feeling humiliated, he left to stay with friends.
This incident deepened his longing to reconnect with his biological family. "If I were their biological child, would they have suspected me of stealing?" Phuc wondered after the incident.
He realized that, no matter his efforts, he would always be seen as an outsider. "An orphan without roots will always be looked down upon," he thought.
Phuc considered returning to Ninh Thuan to search for his parents, but lacking the money to travel, he abandoned the idea. A few weeks later, his adoptive parents discovered the missing money and, realizing their mistake, sought Phuc out to bring him back.
His friends advised him against returning, but he refused to abandon the family who had sheltered him.
"I didn’t want to live a life of endless wandering without any family ties," he recalls. "The nun taught me to be grateful to those who help me in difficult times."
Back at his adoptive home, Phuc worked multiple jobs, saving money to eventually search for his biological family. However, war and displacement had erased records, and the nun could not recall his parents’ names or origins. Despite his efforts, he found no leads.
At 24 Phuc married and he and his wife had six children. Struggling to make ends meet, he paused his search for his family, vowing to resume it once his financial situation improved.
A few years later the nun, his only link to his family’s past, passed away, leaving Phuc at a dead end.
But by then his circumstances had improved significantly: he was no longer a laborer but the owner of a large coffee and durian farm spanning several hectares.
200 kilometers away in Ninh Thuan, Phuc’s twin brother Chan grew up knowing he had an older sibling through his mother’s stories.
Poverty had forced their parents to give away their youngest sibling, whose whereabouts remain unknown. Chan also lost two older sisters to illness in recent years, leaving him feeling increasingly lonely.
"With no parents or siblings left, the holidays are even more depressing," Chan, who has spent most of his life working as a laborer, laments.
When Chan was young, his family moved to Dong Nai Province near HCMC for work. His father fell ill and passed away there. Lacking the money to bring him home for burial, Chan’s mother buried him locally. Years later the area was redeveloped, and the grave’s location is now lost.
Before passing away seven years ago, Chan’s mother had one wish: to find her two missing sons and her husband’s grave.
But illiterate and unfamiliar with travel, Chan was unable to fulfil her wishes.
Recently a neighbor, Nguyen Thi Mai, decided to help.
"Finding the youngest sibling might be impossible since we do not know his name, but the twin brother should be easier to locate because they would look alike and he spent time in an orphanage," she told him.
Mai shared Chan’s story publicly, and within a day, they received information about Phuc. "I was so shocked my hands were trembling, and I nearly dropped the phone," Chan recalls.
A phone call was arranged for the two men to speak for the first time. They discovered striking similarities, from their manner of speaking to their favorite foods and even their shared experiences of headaches and colds.
Earlier this month, Phuc and his family traveled to Ninh Thuan. On the day of their reunion, the twins visited their mother’s grave and informed her that the son she had sent to the orphanage had finally come home.
The twins pledged to continue searching for their youngest brother, determined to fulfill their mother’s last wish.
"Not everyone gets a happy ending when searching for lost family members, but it’s worth trying while there’s still a chance," Phuc says.