‘It turns out that a sandstorm is not the same wherever it happens’

Stark difference in experience of sandstorms in two cities raises questions as climate crisis deepens

This is one of a short series of pieces – Between two worlds – reflecting on ways climate breakdown will affect different parts of the world

As a young girl, I used to check the weather by looking out of my fifth-floor flat window. We lived in a congested neighbourhood in Cairo, and some days were what I called “orange-coloured weather”, when sandstorms fogged the streets below.

On those days, I knew there was no way I could go to school. I had asthma and needed to avoid attacks that could leave me breathless and in desperate need of an inhaler. I always wondered: was I the only one skipping school that day to protect my lungs?

It was only when I moved to Dubai a decade later that I began to understand how a changing climate could affect my life.

I woke up to another sandstorm recently. This time from my ninth-floor flat in the west side of Dubai. The foggy blur from my window was familiar, but this time I didn’t hesitate to walk out of my front door to meet my friend.

Asthma is quite prevalent in Egypt, affecting roughly 8% of children and 6% of adults, according to the Egyptian health ministry. In the United Arab Emirates (UAE), rates are between 2.8% and 8%.

The Middle East has always been hit by dust and sandstorms and is considered one of the dustiest regions in the world. The frequency of these storms is said to be increasing, causing financial losses of $13bn annually, according to the World Bank.

Polluted air and duststorms can have severe public health impacts, causing respiratory diseases in addition to environmental damage. But, if the whole region is victim to these storms, is it more bearable in certain cities than in others?

A heavy sandstorm in Dubai. Photograph: Ali Haider/EPA

I have moved back and forth between these two cities, and they are different in many aspects. Greater Cairo is home to more than 25 million people, making it the most populated city in the Middle East. The country has been suffering from air pollution for decades, exacerbated by transport exhaust and industrial waste. Every year, two million people seek medical treatment for respiratory health problems, according to the Egyptian health ministry.

Just a three-hour flight away is Dubai, accommodating 3.5 million people. Being one of the fastest-growing economies has given the UAE’s government more opportunities to invest in building cleaner infrastructures. However, the air is still polluted as the PM2.5 concentration in Dubai is 116 times the air quality value advised by the WHO.

The difference is in the resources. Cairo wants to fix it. Egypt is hosting Cop27, the UN climate conference, and is making efforts to decrease the frequency of duststorms. But social media in the country has reported a series of trees being cut down in eastern neighbourhoods of Cairo, something that the former environment minister has confirmed and said was vital to prevent “issues” with underground cables and pipes.

Sometimes it seems that duststorms are out of control as they hit the Middle East region where many parts of it are desert. In the UAE, authorities usually advise against driving during sandstorms. But how will people move around, given that the prediction is that there will be more and more of these storms, with hotter summers by 2050, according to a 2017 report by Emirates Wildlife Society? This is expected to affect outdoor workers and increase health risks.

In Cairo, authorities also issue alerts to those with respiratory diseases, elderly people and children during duststorms to avoid leaving their homes.

Both countries are destined to face this inevitable condition from time to time, but it’s hard to compare the infrastructure available to a developing nation with the resources offered to a wealthy oil-rich Gulf state.

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