A British citizen living in Sweden faces sudden deportation and a four-year Schengen ban after discovering he unknowingly missed the country's post-Brexit residency application deadline. Paul Hounam, who has resided in Sweden since 2016, was stopped by border police in Malmö on September 15 and informed that he has been living in the country illegally for four and a half years. He now faces being forcibly expelled within 10 days.
Under the terms of the UK Withdrawal Agreement, Sweden required British citizens already residing in the country to apply for post-Brexit residency by December 31, 2021. However, unlike several other European nations, Sweden chose not to send individual letters to the homes of British citizens to notify them of the requirement. Hounam's case highlights concerns that hundreds of British nationals in Sweden may still be completely unaware that they have lost their right to live in the country they call home.
To date, Sweden has deported 458 British citizens following rejected residency applications. An unknown number of others have also been expelled after having their initial residency applications denied, followed by the subsequent refusal of renewals for work, spouse, sambo (cohabiting partner), or family reunion permits.
Hounam arrived in Sweden in 2016, just as the Brexit referendum was taking place. He eventually secured permanent residency long before the UK officially left the European Union, leading him to believe his right to remain was permanently guaranteed. "I can vividly remember standing around the dining room table at my ex-sambo's parents' house, which was in Hudiksvall, and we all stood around the piece of paper and saw the word 'permanent' and thought, 'well, we've got what we wanted. You're here and you're here to stay.' So then, I wasn't worried about Brexit," Hounam recalled.
His misunderstanding was reinforced by his ex-partner's father, a British man who moved to Sweden in the 1990s. The father believed they were both safe because they held permanent residency. However, because the father's permit had been granted before Sweden joined the EU, his status survived Brexit. In contrast, Hounam's permanent residency rights were tied to his status as an EU citizen and disappeared once the UK departed.
In the months leading up to the December 31, 2021 application deadline, Hounam was entirely consumed by heavy manual labor. He was working intensive shifts as a farmer at Tosterup Castle in Skåne, spending 10 hours a day, seven days a week in the orchard during the picking season. When he was not working, he was busy renovating an old farmhouse he had purchased outside the town of Hörby. "The news I was hearing was all about Covid-19. I didn't hear a sniff of anything about Brexit, or a deadline or a window for applying," he said.
For years, Hounam continued his life in Sweden without any indication of trouble. He remained employed, earned a good wage, paid taxes, held a bank account, lived with his partner, and even voted in local elections. He experienced a brief moment of concern in 2024 when he visited the Migration Agency to obtain a permanent residence card and was told he was not in their database. However, he assumed this was simply a clerical error or a communication breakdown between government departments.
The severity of his situation became clear on September 15, when border guards stopped him as he returned from a job furnishing new offices for the Danish technology company Trustpilot in Copenhagen. Unlike previous border crossings where he had eventually been waved through, guards took him in and declared that he was residing in Sweden illegally. When he subsequently contacted the Migration Agency, he was informed of the pending deportation order and the risk of a four-year Schengen ban.
The Migration Agency has justified the Schengen ban on the grounds that Hounam sought to avoid the authorities, a claim he strongly disputes. "Even though I was registered in a house. I worked, I paid taxes. I voted in local elections. I had a bank account," Hounam said. "The worst case scenario is that I'm forced to leave within about 10 days and then I won't be able to return to Sweden or any EU country for four years."
While he is currently allowed to remain at his home, Hounam is required to report to the police station in Hörby every Monday. "They think that I might be a flight risk, that I might try and run into the Swedish forest," he said. His Migration Agency case officer has already called to ask how much time he needs to pack his belongings, though she indicated that she does not believe it will be necessary to detain him or place him in a deportation center before he is put on a plane.
Despite the looming deadline, Hounam is fighting to stay. He has hired a lawyer who previously worked on the high-profile Joyce Thomas deportation case, hoping to appeal the decision, lift the Schengen ban, and find a legal pathway to return. His employer is assisting with his legal fees and has proposed posting his job publicly for 10 days to sponsor him on a work visa. Hounam is weighing whether to apply for a work permit or a sambo permit, believing the work visa may be the faster option. "They've said they can post a job for… I think it's 10 days, and then try and get me in for the job on a work visa, and then hopefully everything will be fine for a few years on a work visa, and then I can apply for citizenship so this can never, ever happen again because my life's here. I've been here for ten years," he said.
The prospect of deportation is a heavy emotional blow for Hounam, who faces leaving behind his partner, his collection of antiques and Stone Age tools, and the farmhouse he has spent eight years restoring. The renovation has been a massive personal project, beginning with a grueling seven-month period where he dug out the floor with a spade and a wheelbarrow to drill and remove underlying boulders. Currently, only the main living room has a proper floor, the kitchen remains unfinished, and many ceilings are still unpainted OSB boards. Even if he is handed a long-term ban, Hounam insists he will not part with the property. "I guess the house would just become very cobweb-ridden," he said. "I won't be able to sell it and I wouldn't even if they gave me a 10-year ban. Even if they never let me come back to live in Sweden, I'd have it as a holiday house. I've put every single tear, drop of blood, and sweat into this house for over eight years. There's absolutely no way I would sell it."
