In Dubai, missiles overhead, calm on ground |
Nothing could ever happen here, right?” I look at my husband for reassurance on an evening walk, just a couple of minutes before the first missiles are intercepted in Dubai on the last day of February.
A few steps later, we hear a loud bang. Something has crashed into the Palm, a few kilometres away. Our children are in our apartment, high above. I break into a run, asking my husband to call our teenage daughter and wait for them in case they rush downstairs. I reach our apartment and there is no one. The television is still playing Gabby’s Dollhouse, my seven-year-old daughter’s favourite. Her snack lies half eaten. A thick black plume of smoke is visible from the balcony. I wonder what my kids saw, where they are. My husband texts to say they are downstairs, the older one shepherding the younger to safety. I head back down the elevator, and it stops at every floor, full of people trying to evacuate. They are respectful of each other, bound not by a common language or nationality but an implicit trust in their host........