13 Year Old Student
Shanghai American School in 2004

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Dear Student,

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I hope this letter finds you well.

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I still do not know your name, but you may remember the traumatic event that took place at Shanghai American School in September 2004. 9 North Korean refugees, including myself, entered your school, only to be arrested by Chinese police and taken to Shanghai International Prison. Among us were 8 women and one man—me, Timothy—who now lives in the UK.

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We formed a human chain, refusing to be taken, but we were beaten by the Chinese police and eventually dragged into police vans. For me, that would have meant a second repatriation to North Korea, where I had already experienced repatriation and imprisonment in a North Korean prison. I knew that if I were sent back, I would face public execution—especially because we had sought refuge in an American school, a symbol of the so-called "great enemy" in North Korean propaganda.

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That imprisonment in Shanghai was a battle between life and death. For the first time, I knelt before God, pleading for my freedom and vowing to devote my entire life to Him if He granted it. During those desperate prayers, through my tears, I later discovered that a young student from Shanghai American School had written an email to a reporter and helped release a school statement, which is still available on the Internet. These efforts urged The Washington Post, CNN, the BBC, and other international media to stand for us and call on China not to send us back to North Korea.

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What you did was an act of love—an expression of our shared humanity, urging us to stand against injustice and crimes against humanity.

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Our group was one of the first—or perhaps the last—cases in which the Chinese authorities decided to deport North Korean refugees to the Philippines with diplomatic passports instead of repatriating us to North Korea. In North Korea, we were born into a large prison, without passports, never daring to imagine life beyond its borders. It was nothing short of a miracle. I was only 17 years old at the time, clinging to life, and it was in those moments of helplessness, that I learned what it meant to surrender to God.

 

Years later, after I finally arrived in the UK, I came across your email on the internet. Reading those few English words, a school statement, and news articles, I cried for hours. Today, as a human rights activist, I share with the world the story of the​ 13-year-old student whose act of love gave me my first glimpse of true humanity, love and compassion. It is that same love for others that I carry with me now as an advocate.

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And this is the faith, love and hope that have been carried through thousands of years of human history and continues to this day.

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Even after nearly 20 years, I still do not know your name, your age, where you live, or what you are doing. But I want to write this letter to thank you. Your courage and act of love helped me and my group, who now live in freedom and democracy. Over the past 25 years, only 34,000 North Korean refugees have managed to escape and find safety, and I am one of the few. I consider myself incredibly blessed.

Wherever you are and whatever you are doing, I hope you are doing well. And I am certain that you continue to stand for those suffering in darkness—just as you did for me when you were only 13 years old. Today, I dedicate my life to that same mission. I stand and speak for my fellow brothers and sisters still trapped in oppression.

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I sincerely hope to meet you in person one day. I am sharing a link to my LadBible interview on YouTube, where millions of young people have watched my story, and I mention you in it: North Korean defector on surviving beatings, famine and public executions

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If by any chance you happen to see it, please send me a message. I would love the opportunity to express my deepest gratitude to you for your bravery and kindness. I still believe that God was in your heart then, acting out of His love.

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If I had been sent back to North Korea that day, I would not be here to write this letter to you. The fact that I survived means there is a purpose, and I am indebted to many—including those I left behind in prison cells in North Korea. That is why I must continue telling this story, so that we can stand for others and advocate for our cherished freedom, democracy, and the rule of law.

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God bless you. Yours faithfully.

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Your friend,

Timothy Cho