Women’s History Month: Honoring the Bravery of North Korean Women
By: Jennifer Kim
Jennifer* is Liberty in North Korea’s Field Manager. Over the years, she’s carefully stewarded our secret rescue routes and helped countless North Korean refugees reach safety and freedom.
Approximately 70% of North Korean defectors are women. Throughout their journey, they face unimaginable challenges, including human trafficking, confinement, and sexual violence.
For Women’s History Month this year, we asked Jennifer to share her experiences supporting North Korean women who have made the brave decision to escape, and bring light to the stories of real people behind the numbers and statistics.
A Transformative First Mission
When I first began this line of work, I was filled with both excitement and anxiety. “Will I be able to connect well with these people?” “Will the field be too dangerous?” Even in my position as a staff member, there were times when the situations we encountered felt riskier because I was a woman.
On my first mission, the group we brought to safety were all women. From their small requests, like asking for sanitary pads, to moments where they cautiously shared their harrowing experiences of human trafficking in China, I found that we could connect on a deeper level because I was also a woman. I realized my role wasn’t just to be a staff member, but to stand by these people as they needed me, as a fellow woman. From then on, the fear I had initially felt about this work transformed into conviction.
North Korean Women At the Forefront of Resistance and Survival
After meeting many North Korean women defectors, I’ve come to learn that there are unique challenges and experiences that only they face. Women in North Korea are not as restricted to job assignments as men, so they’re the ones actively engaged in informal economic activities. They’re running their own black-market businesses and trading smuggled goods, shifting economic power from the regime into the hands of the ordinary people.
Women also make up the majority of North Korean defectors at over 70%. In freedom, they’re leading advocacy efforts and raising awareness for this issue.
I've come to think that perhaps women in North Korean society were the first and most desperate to stand up in resistance.
At the same time, the reality is that women are more vulnerable to gender violence and crime. The moment they cross the North Korean border and set foot on Chinese soil, their precarious legal status and the fact that they are women become risk factors that can lead to human trafficking, sexual exploitation, and forced prostitution. If these dangerous situations lead to pregnancy and childbirth, women often remain in China for years, even decades, weighed down by the conflicting emotions of their longing for freedom and their maternal instincts.
All of the women I met during my first rescue mission were survivors of being trafficked into forced marriages. While there are some cases where these women meet kind families and live in a relatively less dangerous environment, most have to endure difficult lives. One woman who we rescued in 2024 said that in the early stages of her life in China, she was confined and tied up in a single room by the man who bought her. Others had to do forced labor in one of China’s many factories.
Not a News Story, But a Person’s Story
About ten years ago, I watched a video of a woman my age testifying about the hardships and sexual violence she experienced during her defection from North Korea. As a South Korean, I couldn't believe that such things were happening just across the border. Shocked and ashamed of my indifference, I cried for a long time, then resolved to do something.
North Korea used to be something I only saw and heard about through a TV screen. Now those distant news stories have become the personal experiences of the North Korean mothers and friends I’ve met in the field.
At first, I simply wanted to help as best I could. But as time went on and I met more North Koreans, my perspective gradually changed. Now, I feel like I'm not so much ‘helping’ as I am meeting incredible superwomen who have overcome tremendous adversity.
My role is to constantly remind them of their resilience and potential, so they don't forget it themselves.
“This is My First Time Being Treated Like a Queen”
After a successful mission, our team ensures our newly arrived North Korean friends have a proper meal, get some rest, and receive basic necessities. On one occasion, one woman told me, “This is the first time in my life that I have been treated like a queen.”
She had just reached freedom after ten years in a forced marriage to a Chinese man. Her words resonated with me deeply. I realized once again that our work isn't simply about helping people achieve physical freedom; it's about restoring a person's forgotten dignity.
That woman has since resettled in South Korea and runs a small shop. She’s continued to stay in contact with LiNK, sharing updates about her life. One day, she shyly announced her marriage. She’s starting a new chapter with a person she chose and wanted.
Walking Together In Solidarity
Through the friendships I’ve made and stories I’ve witnessed in the field, my connection to this issue has deepened over time. These women aren’t just “nameless” North Koreans, but people like us, living their daily lives; someone’s daughter, sister, or mother. I didn’t set out to do this work for over a decade. But day by day, hearing each story, meeting each person, and holding their hands has naturally led me down this path.
Listen to their stories, and I believe that you too will encounter a heart for the North Korean people.
– Jennifer Kim, LiNK Field Manager
*Jennifer is a pseudonym used to protect our field manager’s identity and avoid compromising this work.
Help North Koreans Win Their Freedom
From inside the country to on the global stage, North Korean women are driving change on this issue. Driven by necessity, desire to care for their loved ones, and aspirations to forge their own path in this world, their pursuit of freedom is both intentional and instinctive.
Liberty in North Korea doesn't just extend a helping hand to North Korean refugees—we’re cultivating the next generation of North Korean leaders, entrepreneurs, and advocates, and doing this work alongside them.
Become a monthly donor today at $20 per month to help more North Koreans reach safety and gain full authorship of their lives in freedom.
Give Monthly
A North Korean’s Promise to his Father | Joseph’s Story: Part 1
Most of you may know me as Joseph, but my Korean name is Kim Kwang Jin. It means, “walking forward with brightness.” My father gave me this name, full of the hopes and expectations many fathers have for their sons.
But hope is a hard thing to have, especially in a country like North Korea, and as a child, I certainly didn’t make it any easier for my father to believe in my brightness. Even in elementary school, I was a poor student.
The first time I remember making my father proud was through my cooking, not from studying. That day, he and my older sister had gone to the mountains to collect firewood. It was getting close to midnight, but they still hadn’t come home, so I decided to make dinner for them—rice and kimchi soup. At the end of dinner, my father said, Son, this is the best rice I’ve ever had. I had never made rice before, and I knew it was undercooked. That night I realized how much my father loves me. I promised myself that next time I would make him better rice.
But next time never came. When I was 12, my father died of starvation.
To save us from the same fate, my mother and sister left for China in search of work and food. My mom ended up in a North Korean prison. But my sister never returned. Within one year, I had lost my entire family. I was alone—helpless, homeless, and orphaned on the streets.
After three years of barely surviving, I decided to escape. The journey would be risky, but staying in North Korea would be a risk too. I knew I could die of starvation. So I took a chance. Unlike most people, I decided to escape during the daytime, thinking that the border guards would become complacent because why would anyone be crazy enough to cross the border in the middle of the day with nowhere to hide?
Fortunately, I made it to China without being caught.
In China, I slept in the mountains and went to towns begging for food to survive. One day, while crossing a bridge in Yanji, I remember it started to snow. Everyone around me started walking fast.
I remember being so envious because walking fast must have meant they had a home they were rushing toward. I, too, wanted to walk fast, but I had no home and no one waiting for me.
Later on, I was lucky enough to be taken in by a halmoni, an older grandmother. She fed me and let me live with her for six months but I still lived in hiding, fearful that at any moment I could be arrested and sent back to North Korea. The halmoni eventually connected me with Liberty in North Korea and I had an opportunity to escape China and be the first North Korean refugee minor to come to the United States.
I was placed with a foster family and began attending an American high school, which felt a bit ridiculous at first. Even in North Korea, I was an F student. I barely finished elementary school so jumping straight into high school in a foreign country felt overwhelming.
One evening, my foster mom made chicken wings. They were so good that I wanted more, but I realized there wasn’t enough for everyone to have seconds. So I held back, thinking no one would notice. As I stared at my plate, my foster dad placed his last wing in front of me. I looked up, and he smiled, urging me to eat without saying a word. In that silence, I felt the depth of his love and care.
At that moment, I thought of my biological father. Even during our hardest times, he used to share what little food he had with me. I wished more than anything that I could cook for him one last time and share one more meal together.
That night, I promised myself that I would study hard and go to college. I believed that was the best way to honor my father’s sacrifice and make him proud.
Continue reading part 2 of Joseph’s story
Years before Joseph would reach freedom, talk on the TED stage, write a memoir, and pursue his master’s at Harvard Kennedy School, Joseph’s father saw the brightness in his son. While he may not have been able to witness Joseph reach these milestones, none of it would have been possible without the depth of his love that became the foundation for Joseph’s life.
His family’s support, both in North Korea and in the US, has given Joseph the confidence to believe in and fulfill his brightness.
When recalling his past, warm childhood memories and gripping hardship are shared in the same breath. Joseph often says that North Korea is not a land of darkness, merely a land with darkness. Both can exist. But what matters is what we choose to focus on—the shadow cast by the regime or the brightness of the North Korean people.
Help more North Korean refugees reach freedom and share their brightness with the world.
