This article centres on the timing to file the real property gains tax forms (CKHT forms) over the disposal or acquisition of immovable assets (e.g., houses, lands, etc.) arising from conditional contracts.
Under the Real Property Gains Tax Act 1976, parties to the disposal or acquisition of immovable assets are required to inform the Inland Revenue Board (IRB) when doing so, by submitting the prescribed CKHT forms (now via online).
Ordinarily, that must be done within 60 days from the date of disposal or acquisition, as per Section 13, failing which, the IRB can and may seek much temporal joy in fining and/or incarcerating the offending party (Section 29).
However, Section 16, Schedule 2 of the Act provides an exception to Section 13, insofar as the timing to file the CKHT forms is concerned. In the event disposal or acquisition is conditional upon government approval, the timing to file the CKHT forms is within 60 days from the approval date.
As to the meaning of ‘government’ under Section 16, my dealings with the IRB observe that it restricts that to mean the federal government, state governments, and any other duly authorised body acting thereunder. Oddly, the IRB does not recognise the court as part of the government, and here lies the dilemma, more precisely, in the context of disposing or acquiring immovable assets arising from intestacy (dying without a will).
In practice, this exercise would usually be initiated through a contract (e.g., a sale and purchase agreement).
Section 60(4)(a) of the Probate and Administration Act 1959, however, states that no disposal of any immovable asset arising from intestacy can take place unless a High Court Order is first obtained.
Thus, if relevant parties cannot procure the High Court Order, the disposal cannot legally take effect. But by the demands of the IRB (which does not recognise the court as part of the government under Act 169), you would still have had to file the CKHT forms within 60 days from the date the contract was signed – clearly a senseless endeavour, as there is no disposal vis-à-vis the Section 60(4)(a) definition. But then again, we are dealing with a federal entity which thrives on vacuity and an insatiable appetite for paperwork.
From that standpoint, it is evident that the IRB does not place great emphasis on accredited research, for if that were so, it would have easily discovered that there are three branches of government – the Executive, the Legislature (Parliament), and the Judiciary (comprising the Courts) – all of which are creations under the Federal Constitution (Article 39, Article 44, and Article 121, respectively) – the principal law on which Malaysia was founded.
In contrast, the IRB is a subordinate creature of Parliament (created pursuant to the Inland Revenue Board of Malaysia Act 1995) and, by implication, subordinate to those three organs of government, though not that that fact bothers them in the least – a symptom perhaps of one being afflicted with the Malay proverb of “kacang lupakan kulit” (i.e., one who forgets its place).
Indeed, much material has been written on what constitutes the organs of government, though clearly, none has made its way to the IRB reading list (if there is such a list at all in the first place). And from the capacious literature in this regard, possibly the most authoritative and relevant can be found in the unanimous decision of the Federal Court in the case of Semenyih Jaya Sdn Bhd v Pentadbir Tanah Daerah Hulu Langat & Anor [2017] 3 MLJ 561, which, inter alia, affirmed the following [at paragraph 70]:
“The courts …… form the third branch of the government ……”
From my end, I have had many written exchanges on this very issue with the IRB, as far back as 2016, including corresponding directly with its then director-general. But they all remain adamant that the court is not a branch of government (under Act 169 definition), compelling me to conclude that if you want a great career in the service of the nation which offers much benefit, including a secure pension but without the drawbacks of having to read anything on the job save for the lyrics to Negaraku, this federal body may truly be the pinnacle of bureaucracy – the dream public sector employment for those whose single goal is to have cerebral apathy at its finest.
Invariably, I have now resigned to the fact that where the IRB is concerned, buying a bottle of chloroform and using it on myself as therapy would be far better than having to psychoanalyse the thought process of those working in the same, especially from the ranks of its crème de la crème of officers who find a sense of fulfilment simply by abandoning any desire to think.
The views expressed here are the personal opinion of the writer and do not necessarily represent that of Twentytwo13.
