The day when Dubai was on tenterhooks

It was supposed to be a quiet Saturday. What unfolded in the Middle East region, though surprising, was not entirely unexpected.

As usual, my wife and I took our daughter to a weekend class at the Chinese School Dubai. While waiting, we opened our laptops to catch up on work — a habit we've developed over years of always being prepared. Within minutes, our phones buzzed simultaneously with a push notification: Israel announced it had launched the so-called "preemptive strikes" against Iran.

I quickly alerted our Beijing headquarters and Asia-Pacific bureau, then began writing a headline: "Israel announces 'preventive strike' on Iran". Breaking news waits for no one.

Back in Beijing, my colleagues swiftly set up a special coverage page and began publishing updates.

This workflow was familiar — my wife and I had lived through it last June during the 12-day war following US-Israeli strikes on Iranian nuclear facilities.

After filing my first online report, I remembered that a friend's daughter, Yoyo, was scheduled to fly back to China from Dubai at 11 am with her grandma. Yoyo, about the same age as my daughter, had been a frequent playmate during her winter break here. I called to check on my friend. 

"The plane is still waiting to take off, there will probably be delays," he said.

"As long as the airspace isn't closed, once they're out of UAE airspace, they should be fine," I reassured him. "If the flight gets canceled, I'm near the airport and can pick them up."

Soon, media reports confirmed the US involvement in the strikes. Explosions were heard near Iran's Supreme Leader Ayatollah Khamenei's office in Tehran. Breaking news poured in, and I focused on filing stories.

My wife, a former journalist herself, quietly helped monitor updates, alerting me about important developments — a tacit operation we've built over the years.

Then she suddenly shouted: "An explosion in Abu Dhabi!" as a friend living there just messaged her. This was significant as there was a US military base in the UAE capital.

Soon, the Chinese community also reported missile traces over Dubai, with some mentioning two massive blasts near Jebel Ali Port, urgently warning against going outside. Earlier that day, an Asian man in Abu Dhabi had been killed by falling missile debris.

I gathered my thoughts, asked my wife to order groceries online from Wemart, the largest Chinese supermarket in Dubai, and decided we would head home immediately after our child's class ended.

On the way, we learned that the UAE had partially closed its airspace. Both Dubai International Airport and Al Maktoum International Airport suspended all flights indefinitely. Meanwhile, the Burj Khalifa, the world's tallest building, began emergency evacuations as a precaution.

Then my friend called with relief evident in his voice: "Yoyo's plane took off! They've already reached Pakistan airspace. They're safe."

By afternoon, frequent explosions were heard across Dubai. Around dusk, black smoke rose from a well-known hotel less than 5 kilometers from my apartment — it was apparently hit by missile debris or a drone. Local media reported four injuries. Videos circulating online showed flames engulfing the hotel entrance.

Perhaps sensing the tension, my daughter, who had been quietly drawing, suddenly ran over crying. Seeing her frightened face, I realized I'd barely spoken to her all day amid the chaos. I picked her up and comforted her: "Mom and Dad have never experienced war before either. You're only seven and already facing it — you're braver than us!"

Around 10:30 pm, the grocery delivery finally arrived. While I was on the phone with work, my wife hauled seven large bags upstairs — eggs, vegetables, bread and meat. Combined with our existing rice, flour, oil and water, we had enough supplies for at least a week if rationed.

We weren't alone in stockpiling. Wemart reported online orders surging far beyond normal. The photos my wife took showed delivery vans packed with water and provisions — a long, busy night for the deliverymen too.

By then, our child had fallen asleep, exhausted. Together, we packed an emergency bag and suitcase with passports, IDs, layered clothing, small food packs, water, and power banks — in case of an extreme situation.

Throughout the night, explosions rattled our windows. Sirens wailed intermittently, keeping the city on edge. According to official reports, as of 2:30 am on March 1, the UAE had intercepted 132 Iranian missiles and 195 drones.

Around 3 am, my phone blared multiple emergency alerts: "Due to potential missile threats, all residents should immediately seek shelter, steer away from windows, doors and open areas." As the alerts sounded, more explosions echoed outside.

The UAE's Ministry of Education subsequently announced all schools would switch to remote learning for the following week to minimize risks.

Across the sea, more tragic news emerged from southern Iran — a missile strike on a school killed over 100 people. Compared to the devastation in Iran, Yoyo's safe return home and our family's relative security in Dubai felt like a fortune. I sincerely hope this round of conflict ends soon, restoring long-overdue peace in the Middle East.

The author is chief correspondent at China Daily Dubai Bureau.

Contact the writer at cuihaipei@chinadaily.com.cn.