LiNK’s Biggest Milestone Yet: 1,000 North Korean refugees rescued!
I am incredibly humbled, grateful, and excited to announce that TOGETHER we have rescued 1,000 North Korean refugees!
This is the most significant milestone we have accomplished as an organization. But 1,000 is not just a number to us. It is 1,000 individuals with their own stories: mothers, fathers, children, grandparents, and friends - who now live in freedom and finally have the opportunity to pursue their dreams.
It's amazing to think about how far we have come since that night back in 2009 at a bar in Seoul, South Korea. I was with our then VP and Director of Field Operations. We were channeling our anger and frustration at the stories we kept hearing over and over: North Korean refugees were fleeing into China but didn’t have the resources to make it to freedom; many were being arrested and forcibly sent back to unknown fates; North Korean women were being trafficked, sold as brides, and sometimes even exploited after they made it to Southeast Asia.
We had to do something.
So we set out to try something that we knew would be dangerous and audacious.
We put a call out during the 2009 holiday season and launched a campaign called The Hundred. The goal was to raise as much money as we could to help 100 North Korean refugees escape China as soon as possible. Through the unwavering tenacity, dedication, and optimism of LiNK’s early supporters, people around the world donated over $40,000 in less than two months.
A few months later, in the jungles of Southeast Asia, we completed our first rescue mission. We brought out a group of eight refugees, including four young women, a mother and her 7-year old son, and an elderly couple we lovingly nicknamed Grams and Gramps.
What started as one rescue mission grew. More people joined this movement: Rescue Teams popped-up on university campuses and in communities around the world raising funds to rescue refugees; LiNK Nomads drove across North America and hosted thousands of events to tell the stories of the North Korean people; and, most importantly, more North Korean refugees reached freedom.
I am in awe and beyond thankful for the unbelievable support of LiNK’s donors, fundraisers, and Rescue Teams around the world for believing in this work and funding the rescue of 1,000 lives - to our partners in China and our Field Team in Southeast Asia for risking their own safety to do this exhausting work tirelessly and anonymously - to our incredible staff who, have been through so many crazy ups and downs over the years, from unbelievable victories to agonizing heartaches.
But no matter what, I am so thankful that you have always believed in our mission and have never stopped believing in the North Korean people.
I am especially grateful to each North Korean refugee who trusted us with their lives and gave us the opportunity to become a part of their stories. I am filled with hope thinking about the day we will return to a free North Korea with all of our North Korean friends: to meet their families, visit their homes, and see them finally reunited with the ones they love -but, this time, in freedom.
Thank you for being a part of this movement. It is because of your support, encouragement, and hope that this work is possible.
In gratitude and in hope,
Hannah Song
CEO/President
Lost Stories from North Korea — A Life With No Exit
By Jane
Jane is a participant of LiNK’s Intensive English Program (LIEP), designed to build the capacity of North Korean English speakers at the intermediate level. In partnership with the British Council, LIEP aims to cultivate participants’ communication and critical thinking skills in English. LIEP is complementary to our broader LiNK English Language Program (LELP), which supports speakers of all proficiency levels.
When I was young, we lived in the countryside. Like the other kids, I had to help my mom with farming. It was hard work. From spring to fall, everything was difficult. Carrying a heavy load on my back, climbing up the mountain, my hands covered in blisters from using farming tools—I would often return home late, completely exhausted.
Our field was located at the top of a high mountain. From there, I could look down and see the Amnok River flowing, with a railway track stretching beside it. One spring day when I was around 13, I was resting at the top of the mountain, looking down at the train passing by below.
Watching it move slowly like a caterpillar, I thought to myself, "I want to get on that train and go somewhere far away." That was the first time I dreamed of escaping. We were living in a prison with no exit, no hope.
Eventually, I managed to escape from that life in that prison. But my mother must have continued climbing that mountain and working in that field for many more years. Perhaps, during her moments of rest, she would look down at the river and the railroad. Perhaps, she thought about me, who had left for a place far away.
Now, I am living well in South Korea, as a mother of one myself. I carry dreams and hope in my heart. But not everyone has been as fortunate as I have in finding a way out.
I have a friend, a North Korean defector now living in the United States, who once shared a story that moved me to tears. A few years ago, she fled North Korea with her two young daughters and eventually made her way to America. She attempted to reach South Korea twice. The first time, she set out with her daughters, ages seven and eleven. They wandered for days through the vast Baekdudaegan mountains. When their water ran out, she dug into the earth with her bare hands, squeezing out a few drops to moisten their mouths.
Along the way, they came across the bodies of two people, sitting with their backs leaning against each other in the middle of a field. From their clothes, she could tell they were North Koreans, their bodies already beginning to decompose. Fearing that she and her daughters might meet the same fate, she decided to turn back and return to North Korea.
As I listened to her story, I couldn’t hold back my tears. Who were those two souls lost in the mountains? Where had they been trying to go? How long had they wandered? They might have been so exhausted that after sitting back to back, they couldn’t get up again. What thoughts filled their minds in their final moments?
That’s why I want to be a writer—to share these stories with the world.
For the people in North Korea who still dream of breaking free from a life with no exit, and for the nameless souls who never made it to freedom.
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Opportunities like LiNK’s Intensive English Program (LIEP) are helping North Koreans find their voice, reach their goals, and lead change on this issue. Your support can help us continue to make an impact in the lives of North Korean refugees, like Jane.
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