We all woke up on Saturday expecting a normal, quiet day.

Coffee and errands and maybe a slow start.

Instead, there was that moment. That sound. That split second where your body reacts before your brain catches up. And suddenly the group chats lit up.

“What was that?”
“Did you hear that?”
“Is this real?”

I say this fully aware of my privilege - we live in a city that feels stable, safe, predictable. So when something disrupts that rhythm, even slightly, it hits differently. The fear isn’t just about the sound. It’s about the unfamiliarity.

For a few hours, nobody really knew anything. And that might have been the hardest part. Not knowing if this was over or if more was coming. I’m writing this on Monday evening and I still don’t know the full picture. I don’t know what this week looks like. I don’t know what “normal” means right now.

But I do know this - people are remarkable.

The way family and friends checked in instantly. The way my team showed up, steady and focused, without spiralling. And beyond our own circles, the way this place kept functioning.

Supermarkets have stayed stocked and open. Deliveries kept arriving. Those heroes aka bike riders were still out there. This morning, someone still came to collect the garbage. It sounds mundane, but in moments like this, continuity feels like courage.

And yes, it’s also remarkable how the authorities and leadership have responded. Information has been shared quickly and clearly. Precautions have been communicated. There’s been guidance without panic. I love that even in WhatsApp groups, people started self-regulating — “verified information only,” “please don’t forward random clips.” There was anxiety, of course, but there was also restraint.

Everyone I’ve spoken to has said some version of the same thing: we’re shaken, yes, but we’re staying put, staying indoors where needed, following instructions, carrying on carefully. There hasn’t been chaos. There hasn’t been a mass exodus (although I am sure there are takers for those $350K private jet seats out there shakes head). There’s been caution but also composure.

And I know you know that we don’t control global events. We don’t control what unfolds beyond our doors. We don’t get to decide how or when uncertainty shows up.

What we do control is how we respond to each other, how we steady ourselves, and how we choose to behave when nobody really knows anything. And in moments like this, that matters more than certainty.

We don’t know anything about this. But we do know how to act. And the UAE has proved time and again, it can (and does) act in the best possible way for its citizens, residents and visitors.

That’s how I’ll sleep well tonight.

M.

PS: This usually stays within my subscriber circle. This week, it isn’t.