The IRS began processing 2025 tax returns on January 27, 2026. For most filers, a straightforward return means a direct deposit refund within 21 days. For James Okonkwo, a 41-year-old petroleum engineer in Houston, Texas, the math was never going to be that clean.
When I sat down with James at a coffee shop near the Galleria in late March, he had just received confirmation that his federal refund — $6,340 — had finally been deposited. It had taken 63 days. In those 63 days, he had made a partial mortgage payment on one of his rental properties, borrowed $3,000 from a colleague, and, as he put it quietly, told his wife things were “just processing slowly.”
How James Built the Life — and the Debt
James Okonkwo arrived in the United States from Lagos, Nigeria at 19 years old. He worked nights at a logistics warehouse in Houston while completing an engineering degree at the University of Houston. By 32, he had landed a full-time role with a mid-sized oil services firm. By 36, his salary had tripled.
“When the money came, I felt like I had to catch up for all the years I didn’t have it,” he told me. “I bought the house for my family. Then I bought a duplex because I read that real estate was the way. Then a second rental property in Katy because the numbers looked right at the time.”
Today, James carries roughly $1.2 million across three mortgages. His primary residence in the Heights neighborhood of Houston is the largest obligation. The two investment properties generate rental income, but not enough to fully service their own debt — a gap that widened when the Houston rental market softened in late 2024 following a wave of new apartment construction.
He also sends $800 per month to his mother and two siblings in Lagos — a commitment he has never missed, not once in 22 years. “That’s not optional,” he said, with a firmness that closed off any follow-up question.
The Tax Return That Triggered a Review
For tax year 2025, James filed using a CPA in early February. His return included a Schedule E for both rental properties, reporting $38,400 in gross rental income and claiming roughly $41,200 in deductions — mortgage interest, depreciation, repairs, and property management fees. The net result was a rental loss of approximately $2,800, which partially offset his W-2 income from his engineering role.
The Schedule E loss, combined with an amended figure his CPA included to correct an overpayment from 2024, produced the $6,340 federal refund. James was expecting it within three weeks. His CPA had told him that direct deposit for electronic filers typically arrives between day 10 and day 21, a window the IRS Where’s My Refund tool also cites as standard.
On day 22, the tool still showed “being processed.” On day 35, same message. James called the IRS helpline at 1-800-829-1040 twice during this period. Both calls ended after long holds with agents confirming only that no additional information was needed from him and the return was “under review.”
What the Wait Actually Cost Him
James had been planning to use the $6,340 refund to cover a shortfall on the Katy rental property’s February mortgage payment. The tenant in that unit had given notice in January and moved out February 1. Without rental income from that unit, James was covering the full $1,840 monthly mortgage from his salary — which had itself been reduced by roughly 18% after his company cut billable hours in response to oil price volatility in Q4 2025.
“I did not want to call it a cash flow problem,” James told me, choosing his words carefully. “Because that would mean I made bad decisions. I kept thinking the refund would come and it would reset everything for a few weeks while I found a new tenant.”
The reset didn’t come in week three. Or week four. By late February, James made a partial payment on the Katy mortgage — $900 of the $1,840 due — and sent a note to the mortgage servicer. He was not in default, but he was close enough to feel it. He borrowed $3,000 from a colleague, framing it casually as a “short bridge” while his refund processed.
His wife, he acknowledged, did not know the full scope of the situation. “She knows we have the properties. She doesn’t know how tight the months are right now,” he said. When I asked whether that silence was itself a kind of stress, he looked at his coffee for a moment. “Yes,” he said. “It is.”
The IRS Review Process: What James Learned Too Late
On day 47, a letter arrived from the IRS — a CP05 notice, which indicates the agency is reviewing a return to verify income, withholding, or tax credits. The CP05 does not mean a return is being audited. It means the IRS needs additional processing time, typically up to 60 days from the date of the letter, according to the IRS CP05 notice guidance.
James’s CPA had seen CP05 notices before but had not flagged it as a likely outcome on this particular return. “He told me it happens sometimes with rental properties,” James said. “I wish he had told me that before I filed, so I had a plan.”
The CP05 letter itself is notable for what it does not say: it gives no specific reason for the review and no guaranteed resolution date. The IRS instructs recipients not to call before the 60-day window expires. For James, a man accustomed to solving problems by acting, being told explicitly to wait was its own kind of torment.
The Refund Arrived — and So Did the Reckoning
On March 10, 2026 — day 63 after filing — James checked his bank account and saw the deposit. He paid back his colleague immediately. He made the Katy property mortgage current. He sent his monthly $800 to Lagos, which had gone out on time regardless.
But sitting across from me, three weeks later, James was not celebratory. The Katy property still had no tenant. His company had not restored the reduced hours. And the refund, which had briefly felt like a lifeline, was already mostly gone.
“I think I built something that requires everything to go right all the time,” he said. “One month of vacancy, one IRS delay, one slow quarter at work — and I’m borrowing from a friend. That is not the position I thought I was in.”
He said his CPA had recommended he adjust his W-4 withholding to reduce future refunds — the logic being that a large refund signals over-withholding, money that could have been in his account during those 63 days. James heard the recommendation. He wasn’t sure yet whether he would follow it.
What James’s Story Says About Refund Timing and Leverage
James Okonkwo’s story is not unusual in its individual components. Millions of Americans file returns with Schedule E income. Hundreds of thousands receive CP05 notices each filing season. Engineers in the energy sector routinely experience income volatility tied to commodity prices. Immigrant families sending remittances overseas is one of the largest financial transfer patterns in the world.
What makes James’s situation worth reporting is how these ordinary facts compounded. A 63-day IRS delay is a minor inconvenience when you have liquid savings. It becomes a structural crisis when your fixed obligations leave no buffer.
“I never thought my tax refund was a strategy,” he told me near the end of our conversation. “But I was using it like one. That’s the part I have to sit with.”
As I drove back from the Galleria that afternoon, what stayed with me was not the number — $6,340 is not a large refund by any standard. What stayed with me was the gap between how James presented his life and how his life actually functioned. He had built real things: a career from nothing, property in one of the country’s most dynamic cities, a family he continued to support across an ocean. He had also built a structure that, as he said himself, required everything to go right. The IRS, on this occasion, was simply the system that didn’t.
Related: Three Mortgages, $800 a Month to Lagos, and a Wife Who Doesn’t Know the Full Picture
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