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? 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. Cairo is charming, yet hectic. Buildings hug each other tightly, almost to the point of suffocation. Walking its streets is one of my favourite activities. I would rather spend my time commuting outdoors than in a stuffy vehicle. Strolling among the city’s evening charms is best accompanied with a soundtrack ranging from Umm Kulthum to electro shaabi. But, love it though I do, the air is far from fresh. Dubai does not have the same rich and ramshackle street life. The air is more humid, and walkways aren’t always designed for casual strolling. My commute consists of walking from my building into a car, then into another air-conditioned tower in a city that is perfectly equipped to face down the duststorms. All buildings, towers, venues, malls and offices are air conditioned. When we socialise in the evening, we meet indoors at covered entertainment venues or chilly commercial malls. In the UAE, I’ve never seen life halt when a storm hits the way it does in Cairo. Office work carries on. It’s business as usual. Both countries are working to improve their air quality. The UAE, which is one of the most vulnerable countries in the world to climate breakdown risks, is working with the World Health Organization’s global air pollution and health advisory group to come up with solutions. And in May, Egypt launched a 2050 strategy to address the climate crisis by reducing emissions, improving the infrastructure to finance climate projects, and preparing for the adaptability to global heating. The country has also announced plans in August to plant 100m trees in more than 9,000 locations to double green spaces and reduce greenhouse gases. The threat of climate breakdown is facing every country. And yet, Cairo and Dubai experience it so differently. It is striking how the economic ability of countries, even though in the same region, can affect the efforts to prepare for a warming climate. It turns out that a sandstorm is not the same wherever it happens. World governments are making promises, but is it the actions that made a sandstorm in one city more bearable than the other? And while the size of the action needed may differ – comparing a city of 25 million people with another of 3.5 million – I keep asking: what is the main factor, the economic ability or the country’s adaptation to its climate?