North Korean Refugee Rescues: An Update from Our Field Manager
Over the past few years, the impact of COVID-19 has had a devastating effect on the day-to-day lives of North Korean people. Pandemic-related border lockdowns, increased surveillance, and unprecedented restrictions made it impossible for North Koreans to escape and reach freedom.
After a painstakingly long pause on rescues, at the end of 2022 we were finally able to start moving people safely again. Our field team has worked tirelessly to establish new, viable routes and adapt to circumstances on the ground. Navigating unprecedented restrictions and developing new routes has led to significantly higher and extremely volatile rescue costs, but our commitment is stronger than ever to help North Korean refugees reach freedom.
We recently sat down with our field manager, Jennifer* to hear directly about the current needs, challenges, and potential of this new era of rescues.
Could you give us a general overview of the situation in China?
So much has changed since the start of the pandemic. Activists have been kicked out of the country; brokers no longer want to do this work because of the increased surveillance and restrictions. The number of underground rescue networks has shrunk significantly. Navigating these challenges puts us at higher risk, which means that we have to use more resources, including people on the ground, to guarantee that our groups move safely. Because of the increased costs, we soon might have to ask people to wait to be rescued and it’s agonizing, especially because timing is critical in the underground railroad. There are very few moments when everything aligns and it is safe to travel, but because we don’t have funds, North Korean refugees lose those rare, precious opportunities. The North Koreans I’ve been in communication with are living in constant fear because of the increased use of security technology by the state, such as facial recognition with AI. On top of that, domestic violence continues to be a serious issue for many North Korean women who were trafficked or forcibly married in China.
Is there a risk of being sent back to North Korea right now?
Refugees who are caught in China are forcibly sent back to North Korea where they are severely punished. However, because of the pandemic, North Korea sealed its borders in January 2020 and has yet to reopen them. This means that repatriation hasn’t been possible yet, but we are hearing rumors that North Korea will start receiving people again soon.
Many people who have tried to escape were arrested and we’ve heard that currently, there are a large number of North Korean refugees in Chinese prisons.
What kind of situations are people escaping from in China?
It’s mostly North Korean women who were trafficked or forcibly married to Chinese men. Some have been living in China for several years and the pandemic left them stranded with no way to escape. We had heard that some of these women were facing even worse treatment from their Chinese husbands than before. The people who arrived in China in 2019 or early 2020 only had a very short period of time to learn the language, culture, and to adjust before having to quarantine. It has been much more difficult for these people to try to escape from China.
More recently, some of the refugees we’re in communication with have serious health issues. But they can’t go to the hospital because they’re not Chinese citizens and would risk being arrested and sent back to North Korea. They are hoping to make it to South Korea to get the healthcare they need.
And what are some of the challenges that North Koreans in China face day-to-day?
They can’t go outside. There was already a lack of freedom to travel and move around freely before the pandemic, but it has only gotten worse since then. When I speak with them, it feels like they’re losing hope. The reality of how difficult and expensive the journey has become is discouraging, especially because they hear about people who attempted the journey and were caught and arrested. So for people who were connected with us recently, many were shocked to hear about our work. They said it was almost surreal because they didn’t think it was possible to get to freedom at this time.
What motivated these people to leave North Korea in the first place?
It’s different depending on the person. There are usually personal circumstances that lead them to look for better opportunities in China or South Korea. Many people are tricked into human trafficking. Some women choose to live with a Chinese husband of their own will. They believe it’s better to live in China in this way rather than live in North Korea.
What have been the biggest challenges for you?
While I'm very grateful that we've been able to resume rescues, it's a shame that we can only move a limited number of people due to increased costs and heightened security. I stay in close contact with refugees in China who are hoping to reach freedom, and some are in urgent situations. A woman who was 4 months pregnant had to make the journey before her belly got too big. Some refugees have health conditions that need immediate treatment, but they’re unable to go to the hospital. My hope is that we can rescue as many people as possible so they can experience freedom and live the full lives that they deserve.
Since restarting rescues last December, the significant increase in costs have depleted our rescue and resettlement funds, leaving many North Korean refugees waiting, once again, for an opportunity to escape. Your support is needed now more than ever.
Throughout the month of June, all one time gifts made here will go 100% towards our rescue and resettlement efforts. In honor of World Refugee Day 2023 and the countless people waiting for their rare and precious opportunity to reach freedom, give a gift today.
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*Jennifer is a pseudonym used to protect our field manager’s identity and avoid compromising this work.
The North Korea I Remember: School, Family, and Home
By: HyeGyeong Joo
HyeGyeong is a PhD student in the Department of Economics at Korea University, specializing in theoretical economics. Her research looks at developing theoretical models of the North Korean economy. Since 2022, Hye-Gyeong has also participated in LiNK’s English Language Program.
Have you ever wanted to go home even while you were already at home? Because I have. It feels as though I am not longing for a physical house, but for something harder to name: a sense of belonging, of being whole, of belonging not anywhere but somewhere I would truly belong. Instead, I often feel emptiness, as if I do not fully belong. But I am not sure what these feelings mean or where they come from exactly.
I have been living in South Korea for around ten years, but I still miss North Korean food, school life, and above all, the time I spent with my family. There are restaurants in South Korea run by North Korean refugees, and sometimes their dishes bring back memories of home. Foods like injogogi-bap or nongma-guksu remind me not only of North Korean cuisine, but of birthdays, family, and everyday life.
The long strands of nongma-guksu always carry the wish for a long life, while the taste of injogogi-bap brings back the memory of a soybean dish made to resemble the meat we so rarely had.
While these foods remind me of home, what I remember most vividly is my school life in North Korea. When I was in fourth grade, the girls in my school would often gather in the schoolyard to play jump rope. I was actually quite good at it. We would start with the rope at ankle height and gradually raise it higher and higher.
One day, when the rope had been raised to about head height, I tried to jump over it. Since I was quite short, I had to lift my leg as high as I could. Unfortunately, I ended up tearing my pants. I was so embarrassed that I almost cried. But what I remember most clearly is my teachers laughing so hard as they watched from the side. Even now, I can still picture that moment vividly.
I also remember winter lunchtime at school. We all brought packed lunches from home. In one corner of the classroom, there was a stove, and before lunch, students would place their lunch boxes on top of it to warm their food.
Sometimes, the lunch box closest to the stove would get burnt. During class, the smell of scorched rice would fill the room and make us so hungry that it was hard to focus. When lunchtime finally came, my friends and I would gather around the stove, sit in a circle, and eat together.
More than anything else, however, I miss the memories of winter. My friends and I would climb the hills near our town, sit on large sacks, and slide all the way down as if we were on sleds. We did it so often that the fabric on the back of our pants would wear thin and eventually tear. When that happened, I would go home only to be scolded by my mother.
Life was not easy in those days. We were often hungry and did not live comfortably. Sometimes we skipped breakfast, and sometimes a thin porridge was all we had for dinner. Yet, despite those hardships, I cannot forget the laughter we shared.
Looking back now, I realize that what I miss is not North Korea as a system. What I miss are the people with whom I laughed and cried, and the memories of my childhood that have stayed with me to this day.
For a long time, however, I could not talk about these feelings to anyone. I kept them to myself, unsure of how others would understand them. That began to change after I met people through Liberty in North Korea (LiNK). For the first time, I found a space where I felt I could speak more honestly about my memories and my life in North Korea.
Through the LiNK English program, I became close to a friend, and together we made a plan to create a book. I would write about real life in North Korea, and she would draw the illustrations for the book. I wanted people to see North Korea not only as a political system, but also as a place where ordinary people live, love, struggle, and create memories.
I shared this plan with someone I trusted deeply in South Korea. But she told me, “No, you can’t!” She said that if I spoke honestly about daily life in North Korea and about how much I miss certain parts of it, despite all the difficulties, people might ask, “Then why are you here? If you miss it so much, why don’t you go back?” Her response hurt me so deeply that I eventually closed my heart to others. After that, I stopped talking about these feelings with anyone. Only later did I finally find a place where I could tell my story freely and without hesitation.
When many people think about North Korea, they often think about politics, missiles, or the regime. But when I think about North Korea, I remember a girl whose pants tore while playing jump rope, students gathering around a stove to eat lunch together, and children laughing as they slid down snowy hills on sacks.
That is why I hope people can see North Korea not only as a political system, but also as a place where ordinary people live their lives. The people living there are not so different from people anywhere else. They laugh, dream, make friends, and create memories. Those are the stories I hope to share.
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HyeGyeong is a participant of the LiNK English Language Program (LELP), which serves to not only help North Korean defectors build confidence and skills in English, but develop their capacity as advocates for this issue. To that end, we partnered with select LELP “columnists” to write and polish personal essays through multiple rounds of external feedback and revision. Our goal is to have more North Koreans share their stories directly and lead efforts to change the narrative.
We believe the North Korean people can achieve their liberty in our lifetime.
Opportunities like LELP invest in the people building that future now. Help more North Koreans find their voice, reach their goals, and lead change on this issue.
