The war involving the United States, Israel, and Iran has taken a significant turn for the worse over the past week. Following Israeli strikes on major Iranian oil and gas facilities at South Pars and Asaluyeh on March 18, Tehran sharply escalated its threats, warning that Gulf energy infrastructure in Saudi Arabia, the UAE, and Qatar could be targeted. This sparked widespread anxiety across the region, as it signaled that the war could spread further, devastating the economies and lives of people already living under its shadow.

Iran also demonstrated its long-range capabilities by firing two ballistic missiles toward the joint U.S.-U.K. base at Diego Garcia in the Indian Ocean. Although reports indicate the missiles did not hit the base, the incident reinforced the sense that the conflict is widening, becoming increasingly unpredictable and difficult to contain.

President Trump then raised the stakes once again. He warned that unless Iran fully reopened the Strait of Hormuz within 48 hours, the United States would strike Iranian power plants. Iran countered with its own threat, stating that if its power infrastructure were attacked, it would retaliate against Israeli power plants and other regional power facilities linked to U.S. bases.

Then, almost as suddenly, Trump appeared to pull back. On March 23, he claimed that “very good and productive” talks were underway between the U.S. and Iran, with major points of agreement reached, and he postponed the threatened strikes for five days. However, Iran publicly denied that any such talks were taking place. Thus, the region remains in a state of profound uncertainty: one day brings threats of escalation, the next talk of diplomacy, followed almost immediately by denials and renewed doubt.

For those living in the UAE, it is a constant, agonizing journey. Every new threat spikes the tension. Every rumour of talks or a pause brings a small measure of relief, but that relief fades quickly, as no one knows what comes next.

My niece shared her thoughts with me before some of the most recent developments. If anything, the tension is even sharper now than when she wrote them:

“For me, the main feeling lately has been a kind of constant mental exhaustion. You’re always slightly on alert, waiting for the next notification on your phone and wondering if it will be followed by a bang, and if so, how far away it will be.”

In the UAE, a phone message is no longer just a message. Silence is no longer just silence. Every pause is heavy with the understanding that something else could be about to happen.

This pressure doesn't stay with just one person. It seeps into homes, onto the roads, into workplaces, and into family life. The city might still look normal from the outside, but the atmosphere has changed completely.

As my niece put it:

“I think many of us have become a bit irritable and hypersensitive too, simply because our nerves are on edge. It changes the look of everyday life. I get nervous about simple things like driving somewhere. There’s always a question in the back of your mind about something falling from the sky, whether that’s missiles or debris.”

It is easy, from a distance, to view these events as a series of headlines. But for those living in the UAE, the war is felt differently. It is felt in the phone alert that tenses your shoulders, in the instinctive glance at the sky before getting into the car, and in the effort to keep daily life moving while the wider region lurches from one threat to the next.

If the past week has shown anything, it is how suddenly this war can change direction. One day brings threats against power plants and Gulf infrastructure. The next brings talk of productive discussions. Then come denials and further uncertainty.

Undoubtedly, things are much worse for the people of Iran, with a terrifying amount of bombs being dropped on them by the U.S. and Israel. But my family is not in Iran, so I do not feel that direct impact in the same way. There is no such thing as a good war, and I hope this conflict ends soon. Even then, it will be difficult for life to return to how it was, and it is likely the people of the UAE will be keeping an eye on the sky long after the hostilities have ended.

The situation for Irish citizens living and working in the Middle East, particularly in the UAE, has become far more stressful since the United States and Israel began the war against Iran. Although Iran says it is targeting military bases in the Arab Gulf states, it has been reported that hotels and other civilian sites in the UAE have also been hit. As a result, life has changed dramatically in Dubai, where my nephew and niece have lived with their families for years.

Before the war began, Dubai was widely regarded as one of the safest and most prosperous cities in the world. Now, Iran is launching missiles and drones toward the UAE almost daily. The UAE’s air defenses intercept most of them, but they do not manage to stop them all. This offers only a small amount of comfort to families living there, especially those with young children.

I asked my nephew and niece to describe daily life in Dubai at the moment. I am publishing my nephew’s report today, as it illustrates clearly what life is like there right now:

“Life in Dubai has changed dramatically over the past two weeks. There is a sense of uncertainty and unpredictability, and at times it feels dangerous. There has been a clear shift in day-to-day life.

Sometimes when you are outdoors, you hear missiles overhead or see them crossing the sky, with some being intercepted right in front of you. The sound of those explosions is unlike anything I have ever heard before. The shockwave travels through your entire body, and it is impossible to ignore.

We receive official government alert messages almost every day, instructing us to take shelter when waves of missiles are coming our way. Recently, other messages also arrive an hour or two later confirming that the situation is under control again. At night especially, people are much more alert, checking their phones, watching for alerts, and listening for unusual sounds. This creates a tension that is now part of everyday life. I’ve noticed one thing: every time I go out, I look up at the sky just to be sure. That has become an instinctive habit now—something that would have been quite strange a short time ago.

For families, especially those with young children, this is one of the most difficult aspects. We have two small children, and the sound of those explosions is very frightening for them. They are certainly afraid and don't understand what is happening, so we try to downplay the situation and reassure them, telling them it is a normal occurrence—like police cars or ambulances passing by.

Travel has also been heavily affected. Due to the closure of airspace, flights were not operating for certain periods. On some days, the airspace was reopened for a few hours to allow people who were on holiday here to return home to places like Ireland and England, but many flights were still cancelled. Once, when flights resumed for a short while, civilian aircraft appeared to be flying side-by-side with military jets. I had never seen anything like it before, and it was a surreal experience.

In everyday life, there is much less traffic on the roads, though most people are still trying to carry on with their routines and daily duties. It must be said that the response systems are working very effectively. Despite this, there are still cases where drones or debris have caused damage to buildings.

Overall, people are getting used to the situation as best they can, but the atmosphere is very different now. There is an understanding that things could change suddenly. Daily life continues, but everyone is more alert and more cautious than usual.”

Next week, I will continue this series with a report from my niece in Dubai.