I wonder if this is how it is for Ayoola—one minute she is giddy with happiness and good cheer, and the next minute her mind is filled with murderous intent.

MY SISTER, THE SERIAL KILLER

The book:

In late 2018, Buzzfeed started a book club, and I was excited to join. I’d only recently started my own physical book club and relished the opportunity to connect with more people. However, as a profit-driven company, Buzzfeed concentrated on new books that thousands of non-book club members also wanted to read. It took me weeks to get the first entry, yet that was nothing compare to the six months it took to receive My Sister, The Serial Killer (2018) from my local library. Then, as soon as I received it, it was due again for the next reader.

Tl; dr: after waiting half a year to receive it, I read this book in one day.

I promise, I didn’t just speed through the book to meet the return deadline (yes, I’m a good little book borrower), it was simply that fascinating and well-paced. Originally published in Nigeria as an eBook called Thicker Than Water in 2017, this international adaptation is Oyinkan Braithwaite’s debut.

On our return to the African continent, we are directed by a narrator completely divorced from Trevor Noah’s optimism. Lagos is over 4,000 miles from Johannesburg and these sisters’ lives are far removed from the adolescence of a mixed-race man. The story is told from Korede’s first-person POV. She is darkly sarcastic and obsessive over small details of control. Her beautiful younger sister Ayoola glides through life on family and male favor, blind trust in Korede and her own permanence. Chapters are short and drive you through various aspects of their lives.

Spoiler: Unlike psychological thrillers such as Gone, Girl, this novel never leaves any doubt that Ayoola has killed before. The book begins with her third (or fourth?) murder and the cleanup. There is some delicious ambiguity as to the intention and circumstances surrounding each death, but the reader is allowed to develop their own moral grounding. Honestly, I think Ayoola is an opportunistic sociopath and Korede secretly loves having a binding secret to share with her otherwise outshining sister.

The author:

Oyinkan Braithwaite was born in Lagos and spent her childhood in both Nigeria and the UK. She studied law and creative writing at Surrey University and Kingston University before moving back to Lagos in 2012 She has since won awards for both her spoken word poetry, short stories and now this novel.

Her afterword thanks someone for help with the Yoruba accents marks I was unable to fully replicate in my blog. Another testament to the chaos of languages in Nigerai.

Translation:

The national language of Nigeria is English, due to British colonial influence. However, Nigeria is home to over 500 tribal and ethnic languages, and My Sister, The Serial Killer reflects those divisions.

Korede’s family and coworkers pepper their speech with Yoruba phrases and exclamations. They briefly reflect on tribal visits to a village area, and the Hausa language is mentioned as an ethnic divider. To this outsider, the foreign language usage was light enough to give the novel authentic flavor and comradeship for native speakers, while not overly confusing foreign readers.

More than a few of my notes state “Google this” for English and Yoruba words describing clothing, food, actions and customs of the Nigerian people. Translated or not, books like this are exactly why I started this blog!

What I loved:

The dark humor. If you’ve read more than two of my blog reviews, you’ll know now that I appreciate an intelligent wit and sarcastic comment more than the Average Jane. Korede is caught between a rock and her family loyalty, but that doesn’t mean she misses cruel ironies and moments of levity. Her practicality is unintentionally humorous as well!

Maybe she is reaching out because she has sent another man to his grave prematurely, or maybe she wants to know if I can buy eggs on the way home. Either way, I’m not picking up.

MY SISTER, THE SERIAL KILLER

“No, too small. My brother deserves a grand celebration.” I am sure they are celebrating him in hell.

MY SISTER, THE SERIAL KILLER

Ayoola has her knife on her, since she carries it the way other women carry tampons.

MY SISTER, THE SERIAL KILLER

The language. As I mentioned earlier, Nigeria has a multilingual population, now mainly split along geographic lines, with ethnic divisions remaining. English may be the national language, but class lines are evident in the full adoption. Yoruba is often used to indicate heightened emotion, but pidgin English phrases are common as well. “Ma” in place of “ma’am” stood out to me at first. Flexing, blag and maga, and tsugunnawa are other non-translated terms throughout the book. Korede exploits these language differences when in a literal tight traffic jam.

“Oga,” I say with as much deference as I can muster, “no vex. It was a mistake. E no go happen again.” My words are more his than mine. Educated women anger men of his ilk [LASTMA official], and so I try to adopt broken English, but I suspect my attempt betrays my upbringing even more.

MY SISTER, THE SERIAL KILLER

The sisterhood. The title says it all: this is a novel about family relationships. Some reviewers decry the lack of psychological development, but we do not always deeply examine the actions and motivations of those closest to us. Korede appreciates Ayoola’s skills and personality, while Ayoola loves being around her and seeks her opinions. Family bonds are often a barrier against the outside world—or past trauma, in this case—and you accept what you would never tolerate from outsiders.

She would come to me each day weeping and I would wrap my arms around her and soothe her. It would be us against the world.

MY SISTER, THE SERIAL KILLER

She was right. You have to choose a side, and my lot was cast long ago. She will always have me and I will always have her; no one else matters.

MY SISTER, THE SERIAL KILLER

What I liked:

The contradictions. A less creative author would have simply painted Ayoola as pure evil and sent Korede on a crusade to end her killing spree. Instead, building off the sisterhood theme, Braithwaite establishes an unreliable narrator that both loves and hates her sister’s tendencies. Ayoola herself cannot always be trusted, but Korede’s loyalties are suspect…or did she know her purpose all along?

“This is victim shaming, you know…” Victim? Is it mere coincidence that Ayoola has never had a mark on her, from any of these incidents with these men; not even a bruise?

MY SISTER, THE SERIAL KILLER

But she cannot fool me. It is a mystery how much feeling Ayoola is even capable of.

MY SISTER, THE SERIAL KILLER

She had warned me: He isn’t deep. All he wants is a pretty face.

MY SISTER, THE SERIAL KILLER

The racial commentary. In a post-colonial world, skin color has been a strong determinant of social class in African and Asian countries alike. Even in medieval Europe, lighter skin denoted a life spent indoors and not in the fields. Braithwaite continues this dialogue with subtle notes on skin color between characters and situations. It’s an interesting thought, as most white authors rarely detail skin colors beyond mentioning a tan.

Her skin is even darker than my own—she comes close to the color black that we are all labeled with.

MY SISTER, THE SERIAL KILLER

What I could do without:

I really enjoyed every aspect of this book. I am not an experienced thriller reader, so I appreciated not being actually scared during this story. However, I did enjoy being compelled to turn the page over and over again. I thought the characters were entertaining and surface level details kept you guessing at their motives. The Nigerian setting was fresh (to me) and the language was relatable, even in Yoruba.

The recommendation:

I seem to be on a hot streak, for this is another book review to be adapted for film! Even more exciting, the movie deal was signed before the book was even released. The author has stated a preference for Nigerian and Western actors—Nollywood has plenty to offer!

As for the book, I think it’s a quick read (227 pages) that both delights and disgusts, just like family. I know murder podcasts and tv shows are on the rise, so Braithwaite has captured another slice of the dark desires pie. At the very least, if thrillers aren’t your style, it’s an opportunity to take a dive into another culture just as modern and multi-faceted as your own.

I gave this 5/5* on Amazon. Do you think the story stands up to the provocative title? Let me know in the comments!