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
From North Korea to Seoul National University | Noah’s Story
The house was too small. There was nowhere to hide, and so we had to leave.
I was only 8 years old when my parents divorced. My father was a violent alcoholic, and every day he would beat my mother, sister, and me. North Korea’s laws didn’t protect us from him, so my mother tried to protect us instead. My father stabbed her in the lungs for it.
We were suffocating, but there was no one to save us. The police, the law, and the regime didn’t care. So we left.
First, from our hometown. We moved to a remote city to escape our father’s shadow, but North Korea is a patriarchal society so families like ours are looked down upon. All people saw was a divorced woman and her fatherless children. They didn’t see my mother, who came back from the brink of death to protect her children at all costs. They didn’t see my older sister, who ran her own business and worked away from home to support our family.
All we had was each other, and everything we had, we shared. I remember the snacks we used to buy, the delicious things my sister would bring home and split three ways. We endured 8 years like this, surviving hardships and prejudice with little bits of sweetness.
With no social welfare or food rations to depend on, we had no hope of escaping extreme poverty and hunger. We tried our best, but there were days when I went to school starving. One time, while the other kids were getting ready to eat lunch, I snuck out to forage in a nearby mountain. I found some unripe apricots and ate them to satisfy my hunger. After school that day, I ran home and found some rice porridge leftover in the pot. Without thinking, I ate it all, only to find out later that my mother had sold her clothes in exchange for the rice.
That was worse than the hunger–the helplessness as I watched my mother sell her beloved belongings one by one.
We were still suffocating in a country that told us to be small and silent. To live so invisibly, perhaps they hoped we’d disappear altogether. And so we did. We left North Korea, in search of somewhere with breathing room. Somewhere we wouldn’t have to run from again.
That was eight years ago. My family lives in South Korea now. Today, my mother, who fought hard to protect her two children in a place with no freedom or human rights, works as a school teacher for other refugee children. My sister has since graduated from nursing school and works as a full-time ICU nurse. They’ve never stopped being the strongest, most loving people in my life.
I’m here because they protected me. And now, I can protect them too.
I used to be a terrified, 8 year-old boy, who could only rely on his mother. Now, I’m her proud son, studying politics at Seoul National University – the most prestigious college in South Korea.
As I learn and grow, I’m able to understand my past and leverage it for a better future. The politics and systems that people live under, the environments and experiences that people carry with them – all of these things can be different. But in the end, we are all people. We set the standards for our freedom. We can be the ones who bring change.
When I think about how my family used to live and how we live now, it’s actually easier to remember the bright, happy moments in North Korea, because they were so few and far between. Now, happiness is happenstance – it’s everyday and mundane. And I realize that’s what it must mean to be free. That I know this sweetness will stay, and I can too.
Noah was part of our 2022 class of Advocacy Fellows, a program that supports and develops the next generation of North Korean leaders, storytellers, and advocates. For three months, he traveled across the United States, sharing his story at universities, Fortune 500 companies, embassies, thank-tanks, and The White House. Ultimately, Fellows are working to bring a greater focus to the North Korean people and human rights issues rather than just politics.
We’re only able to sustain these life-changing programs because of your support.
