Webcomic: Escape From North Korea
By: Ju Ok Jeon
This webtoon, created by North Korean escapee Ju Ok Jeon, reflects the real risks many North Koreans face when fleeing their home in search of safety, dignity, and the chance to live freely.
About the Artist
Ju Ok Jeon is a North Korean defector who escaped in 2013. Having lived under the Kim Jong Un regime in an oppressed land, she conveys—through webtoons and comics—how precious the values of freedom and dignity truly are, with both sincerity and storytelling power.
Support Ju Ok’s work: @unistudio_juok
From Artist to Activist
As a kid in North Korea, Ju Ok was famous at school for one thing—drawing portraits of people passing gas. Her classmates flocked to her, asking to be drawn in exchange for snacks and even small amounts of money. Nothing made Ju Ok happier than to see people’s faces light up with a big smile, and to laugh together over her creations.
But things came to a halt when a teacher pulled her aside for “disrupting the school environment” with her “unrevolutionary” drawings. Ju Ok’s art supplies were confiscated, and she was warned that her parents could be punished for failing to educate their children.
“I vowed to never draw again because my simple drawings could bring harm to my family. But no matter how hard I studied or worked, opportunities were limited because my family belonged to the labor class. After a relative defected, my social classification [songbun] fell, leaving me destined for a life of forced labor. Realizing there was no hope or future, I decided to escape.”
In freedom, Ju Ok found that there was a lack of public understanding and empathy about North Korean human rights. A few years ago, her husband, who is also an artist, encouraged her to try drawing again.
“After being severely scolded as a child, I hated anything related to drawing. But when my husband told me I have talent, I got chills—thinking, ‘Did I actually used to like this?’
Through illustration, I want to share the reality of North Korea I experienced, my journey toward freedom, and my resettlement in a free society—so the world can hear the voices of those who still long for freedom inside North Korea.”
Ju Ok hopes her art will reach more people and increase support for this issue. In 2025, she participated in the LiNK English Speech Program to hone her storytelling and English speaking abilities.
“The North Korean issue is not only a domestic matter on the Korean Peninsula but also a complex international issue. That is why it is vital to raise awareness globally—and for North Korean defectors to share their stories directly in English. LiNK’s program has played an important role in helping me move toward my life goals.”
Reimagining North Korea’s Future
Liberty in North Korea helps North Koreans reach freedom and reach their full potential through programs that build their capacity to succeed and lead change. With the right support and tools, they’re sharing their stories, utilizing their talents, and building their careers with unwavering purpose—to create a future where every North Korean person can live free and full lives.
Invest in the next generation of North Korean advocates, storytellers, changemakers, and entrepreneurs, like Ju Ok.
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A North Korean Father Risks Everything for Family | Doohyun’s Story
I lived in North Korea for over 20 years, and for much of that time, I believed my life was normal. I grew up in a big city by the river. When the wind blew, I could smell the water on the breeze, and on holidays, I played along the banks with my friends.
The river ran along the border between North Korea and China. I could see across the water into a different world–one where cars lined the streets, and buildings stretched high into the sky.
But I didn’t realize that life should be different, until the day they took my father away.
My father was a great businessman. He provided for our family despite being forcibly discharged from the military when his Minister of Defense was executed by Kim Il Sung. Labeled as a “traitor,” he was banned from decent jobs and opportunities.
Still, my father was a clever man and found success within the private market system that many North Koreans rely on to survive. Until one day, the police came to investigate him.
Without reason or warning, my father was arrested and imprisoned. They tortured him for a year. When he was released, my father weighed only 66 pounds.
Even after surviving the unimaginable, he was defiant. He wrote 20 pages of complaints to the Central Party about the human rights abuses he endured. My family was terrified of the consequences, but we couldn’t stop him. He fought for his voice to be heard.
On a warm Spring day, a Mercedes-Benz, license plate number 216, arrived at our home. February 16th was Kim Jong Il’s birthday, and cars with this number were only given to his closest aides. My father spoke with the man for hours about his letter. The man apologized and promised something like this wouldn’t happen again. This gave us a bit of hope for the future – for the possibility of change.
But the man left for Pyongyang. And then the police returned. I never saw my father again.
For two years, my family and I lived in unknowing agony, receiving no news on my father. Eventually, we heard from my father’s friend, who was a police officer, that he had passed away in prison.
At the very least, we wanted to send him off properly, so we asked that same friend how we could get my father’s body. Three days later, he returned. He told us they would not return my father’s body. My father had been sentenced to eight years in prison. He’d passed away after two. He still had six more years to serve – as a dead body. As a corpse.
For the first time I wondered whether this was the way normal people lived.
In 2009 I decided to escape from North Korea. Life had become near impossible for me after my father’s death, and I continued to face discrimination due to our family’s status in society.
By then, I had been married to my wife, Jiyeon, for two years. Most of our relationship before marriage was through the phone, because we lived far apart, and traveling in North Korea is difficult. So we called each other every night and talked for hours.
Now, I didn’t know if I was going somewhere she would never be able to reach. I told her it was a business trip. Two weeks. I’ll just be gone for two weeks.
She still cried at the train station, thinking about those two weeks. I couldn’t cry with her because then she would know the truth. So I boarded the train without a word, and watched it take me away from her.
From the moment I escaped North Korea, it felt like I was being chased by a grim reaper. There were multiple close-calls where I felt death breathing down my neck.
I was once hiding in a corn field near the Chinese border. Lying on my stomach, I watched soldiers patrol the area when suddenly, one of them walked towards me. It was too late to run or hide.
I had brought poison with me in case something like this happened - I knew it would be better to kill myself rather than be captured. But as I prepared to take the poison, I thought of my wife. I thought about how she would never know what happened to me.
In that moment of sheer terror, I heard the sound of water. The soldier stood right beside me but he hadn’t seen me. He had only walked over to relieve himself. For the next few minutes, I couldn’t move. The soldier had left, but my body held onto the terror of that moment. I remained hunched and hurried for the rest of the journey.
Eventually, I made it safely to South Korea. I started working as soon as possible – 12 hour days to pay back the broker fee, and save up money for my wife’s escape. My schedule was just working and sleeping, working and sleeping. It was hard, but for the first time in a long time, I had hope.
I was able to find a broker who put me in contact with my wife. It had been ten months since I’d defected at that point – ten months of her not knowing whether I was dead or alive. The call couldn’t be made in the city because the signal could be intercepted, so my wife and the broker hiked to the top of a mountain.
When we heard each other’s voices again, all we could do was cry. But we didn’t have much time, and so I asked her, you’re coming, right?
She said she was.
On December 27th, 2011, Jiyeon crossed the river to escape North Korea on the same route that I took.
As soon as my wife arrived in South Korea, I went to meet her. I was so excited. I couldn’t stop crying. When my wife came into the room, she was crying too – but do you know what’s the first thing she did when she saw me?
She punched me – crying, calling me a liar. And I deserved it.
We live in Utah now with our two beautiful sons. We go fishing, camping, and enjoy the outdoors together. Every time I see them, I realize I’m living in a different world, one where we can finally dream and decide our own future.
This is the life I’ve made for my children. This is the life my father envisioned for me and for all North Koreans when he made his act of defiance. My father died fighting for his voice to be heard – and now, finally, he’ll be heard by the world.
Doohyun risked everything to create a future where his family could live together in freedom. Their story isn’t unique - there are many more North Koreans waiting and hoping for the day when they can reunite with loved ones. Help make freedom part of every North Korean’s story.
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Since resettling in the United States, Doohyun has completed his undergraduate studies and now works for a North Korean human rights organization. He considers helping the North Korean people to be his life’s mission, continuing his father’s legacy.
