North Korean Refugee Stories: Meet On Song
On Song lived a good childhood in an upper-class family, attending special schools reserved for people of her social class and nurturing dreams of becoming a doctor or scientist. After her parents shut those dreams down because they felt they were improper for a girl, she instead became an accountant and worked for a special division of the government for several years. However, once her father retired and his salary and benefits stopped, life immediately took a turn for the worse. It was difficult for her mother to adjust to their new economic situation, and she soon fell seriously ill and passed away.
Things only became more difficult for On Song from that point on. Shortly after her son was born, she got into an argument with her in-laws. They took her son from her and placed him with a foster family. When her marriage ended in a messy divorce, she was left jobless, homeless, and penniless. She finally tracked down her son and saw that he was doing well with his new family. She knew she couldn't provide the same quality of care given her situation, so she decided to leave him with them. It was at this point that she realized her future looked grim if she remained in North Korea. She made the dangerous escape across the border into China and was quickly sold as a bride. She ran away from her "husband" a year later. She did her best to hide from the Chinese authorities, but eventually one of her neighbors reported her and she was repatriated.
She was sent to a reeducation camp where she endured horrifying conditions. She said she saw fellow prisoners around her die every day. After she was released a year later, she managed to escape again to China and was rescued by LiNK. Now she looks forward to life in South Korea and is not worried about facing hardships there, having already seen the worst that life has to offer.
“I don't want my first step in South Korea to be too high, because I want to be able to move up one step by one step, learning the whole way. I believe that even though it's hard, I must go through it.”
On Song is safe today because people around the world stepped up to fund her rescue. Now, she has the freedom to pursue her ambitions and live life as she chooses. You can make a difference in the lives of more North Korean refugees like On Song by donating to our work.
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.
