Karachi airport was humid and loud, as usual, lit in the signature warm ambience. I was heading back to Dubai after a short consulting trip. The Emirates flight to Dubai was full, mostly businessmen and families. I had the window seat. As I settled in, a man around his late 40s slipped into the seat next to me. He looked tired. His salt-and-pepper beard was neatly trimmed, but his eyes were restless.
He greeted me with a polite nod, then stared out at the runway like his mind was miles away. I noticed his well-worn leather briefcase. Maybe another business traveler.
We took off smoothly. About 20 minutes into the flight, the seatbelt signs blinked off. I pulled out a tax journal I’d been meaning to skim. That’s when he spoke.
“Excuse me,” he said, hesitantly. “Are you into taxes?”
I looked over, surprised. “Yes, actually. I’m a cross-border tax advisor. UAE and Pakistan mostly.”
His eyebrows rose slightly. “Funny. I was praying for someone like you.”
We both laughed.
“I’m Shahid,” he said, extending his hand. “Lahore-based. Though I spend a lot of time outside Pakistan.”
We shook hands. Then his smile faded. He looked down, then back at me. “Let me ask you something. Hypothetically, if someone has a few rental properties in London, some investments in Dubai, and maybe some income from a consultancy in Singapore… would he have to pay taxes in Pakistan on all of it, even if he hardly lives there?”
I nodded slowly. “Well, if he’s a tax resident of Pakistan, then yes, his worldwide income is taxable in Pakistan.”
Shahid sighed. “That’s what I feared. I travel a lot. I haven’t stayed more than 90 days in Pakistan for years. Yet, in recent years, my accountant tells me I’m still considered a resident because I don’t have tax residency anywhere else.”
I leaned back in my seat. The pieces were falling into place.
“Let me guess,” I said. “You’re a Pakistani citizen. You don’t stay in any one country long enough to qualify as a tax resident. And since you don’t hold tax residency anywhere, Pakistan treats you as a resident by default.”
He nodded slowly. “Exactly. My tax bill has become insane. And I don’t even use most of what I pay for. But I’ve been told I have no option.”
“That’s not true,” I said, turning in my seat to face him. “There is a solution.”
His eyes lit up. “I’m listening.”
“The UAE gives tax residency certificates to individuals who stay here for at least 90 days in a year, provided they meet some documentation and economic substance requirements. It’s not a visa thing. It’s an official tax status.”
He frowned. “But I don’t live in the UAE permanently. I come for business, spend 3 to 4 months spread across the year.”
“That works,” I said. “If you can show 90 days of presence and provide some basic documents, like proof of accommodation, bank account, and source of income, etc. you can apply for a tax residency certificate from the UAE’s Federal Tax Authority.”
“And that would make me non-resident in Pakistan?”
“Exactly. Under Pakistani tax law, even if you’re in Pakistan for less than 182 days, you’re still considered a resident if you are not tax resident anywhere else. But if you are a tax resident elsewhere, even the UAE, then you’re not a resident in Pakistan anymore. Which means Pakistan has no right to tax your foreign income.”
He stared at me in disbelief.
“You’re telling me,” he said slowly, “that if I spend three months in Dubai, rent a studio, open a bank account, and show I have income, I can get this certificate… and then I don’t have to pay tax in Pakistan on my UK, UAE, or Singapore income?”
“Yes,” I said. “It’s not automatic. You need to apply. The FTA will verify your documents. But it’s doable.”
He sat back, eyes wide. The flight attendant passed by offering drinks, but he waved her off.
“Why has no one told me this?” he said.
“Most accountants focus only on domestic law. This is a cross-border issue. You need someone who understands both systems.”
He paused, thinking. “What’s the catch?”
I smiled. “No catch. You still have to pay tax in the UAE if you have UAE-sourced business income, but if your income is from London or Singapore and you’re tax resident in UAE, Pakistan can’t touch it. It’s about proving your center of vital interests lies outside Pakistan.”
He looked out the window. The clouds below were glowing under the setting sun. The plane hit a small patch of turbulence. He didn’t even flinch.
“What documents would I need?” he asked.
“At minimum, a valid UAE residence visa, Emirates ID, tenancy contract, utility bills, bank statements, passport copy, and proof of income. I help clients prepare the documents and apply to FTA directly. Takes about 1 to 2 weeks.”
He turned back to me. “And you help with this?”
I pulled out my card and handed it to him.
“Give me a call when you’re in Dubai. I’ll walk you through the whole thing. We’ll make sure it’s clean and defensible.”
He took the card and looked at it like it was a winning lottery ticket.
As the plane began descending over the glowing skyline of Dubai, he turned to me again.
“I’ve paid taxes I shouldn’t have for years. If this works, you’ve changed everything for me.”
I smiled. “Then this flight was good for both of us.”
We landed smoothly. As we waited to disembark, he looked calmer. Like a weight had lifted.
“Thanks,” he said, shaking my hand again. “I owe you coffee.”
“I’ll take that,” I said. “As long as you bring your documents.”
We stepped off the plane and into the bright lights of Dubai. He disappeared into the immigration line. But I knew I’d hear from him soon.