Why Living Across Countries Changes How You See Safety (Part 3 of 3)

Esther Ayorinde-Iyamu, Co-Founder of Geoffrey, is a dual U.S.–U.K. citizen, technology executive and entrepreneur with more than 20 years of experience in global tech commerce, a board member, and women’s health advocate whose life and work span the United States, the United Kingdom, and MEA (Middle East and Africa).

A CNBC reporter reached out asking what it feels like to live in the UAE during this moment of regional tension.

While this blog series has no affiliation with CNBC, the question made me realize how different the lived experience can be from the narrative many Americans are seeing from afar.

In Part 2, I described how three global communities responded very differently to the same moment of uncertainty. Watching those reactions led me to reflect on something deeper.

Let's talk about Safety.

I am a Black woman.

I am considered an immigrant to the United States.

I live with endometriosis.

Those realities shape how I experience the world.

In the United States, safety can sometimes feel conditional. It can depend on where you live, who you encounter, or whether a doctor takes women's pain seriously.

For women living with endometriosis, one of the most painful whole body inflammatory diseases on record, the average time to diagnosis is seven to ten years often due to symptoms being dismissed as simply painful periods.

Living in the UAE shifted that experience for me.

Safety is expected, independent of what neighborhood you live in or how many zeros are in your bank account. I do not worry about being robbed while walking at night or followed in a convenient store. The UAE consistently ranks among the lowest crime rates globally and Dubai regularly appears on lists of the safest major cities in the world.

Healthcare moves quickly and treatment pathways are clear. The UAE’s level of safety has also created a culture of trust between institutions, government, and citizens. My pain and symptoms are believed and treated with care. I do not have to pay a premium just to access food and household goods free from pesticides and endocrine disruptors that trigger inflammatory flare-ups. Living with those constant tradeoffs is a kind of quiet terror no one should have to experience, yet many people, including myself in the past, know exactly what that feels like.

The country is home to residents from more than 200 nationalities, 90% are expats, and that diversity shapes daily life. My African, British, and American food are all found at the same grocery stores everyone else shops at. In a Muslim country, you'll find my Catholic Church in the same complex as the Buddhist Temple, the Hindu Temple, and the Jewish Synagogue.

None of this means the region is perfect.

But it does mean the story many Americans hear about the Middle East is incomplete. At least for the United Arab Emirates and in particular, Dubai.

Global Interconnectivity

The region is also deeply intertwined with the United States and the global economy.

One reason is geography.

Just north of the UAE sits the Strait of Hormuz, one of the most strategically important shipping routes in the world. According to the U.S. Energy Information Administration, roughly 20 percent of the world’s petroleum consumption moves through that single waterway each day, making it the most important oil transit chokepoint on the planet. On average, more than 20 million barrels of oil pass through the strait daily, along with a significant share of the world’s liquefied natural gas shipments.

When disruption happens in this region, the impact does not stay local. It ripples through energy markets, shipping lanes, supply chains, and ultimately the cost of goods and services around the world.

But energy is only one piece of the story.

The Middle East has also become an increasingly important node in the global technology and capital ecosystem. Amazon operates major cloud infrastructure across the region through its AWS Middle East data centers, supporting governments, financial institutions, and technology companies. Semiconductor leaders like Nvidia and AMD have signed major agreements to supply advanced AI chips to governments and companies across the Gulf, helping build regional AI and cloud computing capacity.

At the same time, Gulf sovereign wealth funds have become some of the largest investors in the United States, with trillions of dollars deployed across American technology companies, venture capital funds, infrastructure projects, and real estate.

In other words, what happens in this region does not stay here. Disruption in the Middle East does not just affect the people who live here.

It affects energy prices, technology infrastructure, and global commerce everywhere.

Global Mobility

One of the most valuable lessons I learned about navigating the world came from my mother. She passed down what I called "non-monetary wealth" to my sisters and I. Assets that create stability and optionality for your life.

For my sisters and me, one of those forms of wealth was global mobility. Growing up she made sure we understood the value of holding more than one passport. Between the three of us we carry passports that allow us to move across different parts of the world. To her, that was not about travel convenience. It was about resilience.

She taught us to think about global mobility the same way you might think about an investment portfolio, where diversification and access across borders is critical. Building infrastructure so your family can live and operate in more than one country matters.

At the time those lessons felt abstract. Today they feel incredibly practical. I wish she were still here to see it.

Because the truth is I do not see my life as belonging to only one country. As a dual citizen of the United States and the United Kingdom who lives and works across the UAE, the U.S., and the UK, I see myself first as a global citizen. My family, my companies, and my community all live across borders.

Global mobility matters for families, for businesses, and for resilience.

The world is more interconnected than many people realize. Sometimes that reality shows up in large geopolitical shifts. And sometimes it shows up in smaller personal ways like trying to figure out how to get three tiny dogs safely across continents while airspace changes (yikes).

Conclusion

Three things became clear to me through this moment.

First, many Americans are asking whether it is safe to live in the Middle East right now. But for many people who live here, especially those who have experienced instability or discrimination elsewhere, the real question is different: where do I feel the most peace and stability in my daily life?

Second, this moment reinforces the value of global mobility. One of the most important forms of wealth my mother passed down to my sisters and me was access across borders. Multiple passports, the ability to live in more than one country, and the infrastructure to move when needed create a form of resilience that money alone cannot buy.

And finally, safety is not experienced the same way by everyone. For some, safety means trusting institutions to protect them. For others, it comes from community and self-reliance. And for people who live across borders, safety often comes from having options.

Which is why the question is rarely just whether a place is safe.

The deeper question is how different people experience safety in the first place.