Bleach, rubber gloves, nerves of steel & a strong stomach

My Sister the Serial Killer is the delightful debut novel from Oyinkan Braithwaite. It is a darkly humorous novel that doesn’t take itself too seriously. Unusually told in a series of bite sized chapters with short sharp mundane titles, a format which takes a couple of chapters to get used too. Once the reader is accustomed to Braithwaites storytelling, it makes complete sense. I must admit I don’t think the story would work any other way – It demonstrates the authors casual approach to language conventions and demonstrates the way a family communicates.

The format didn’t surprise me when I learnt Braithwaite is a force to be reckoned with when it comes to poetry and short stories, she is a graduate of the renowned Kingston University London’s creative writing program and In 2016 was shortlisted for the Commonwealth Short Story Prize.

My Sister the Serial Killer is the story of two sisters; Korede & Aooyla, and just a couple of three murders. Braithwaite has created a narrative which asks the reader to suspend belief for long enough to convince them of the stories plausibility – I readily admit a request I found relatively easy enough to comply with when you consider the corruption that is rife across the African continent.

Braithwaite’s narrative is designed to push our protagonist to her limit – she ingeniously has the reader ignore Korede’s crimes and instead constantly extols her virtue. She examines the sisters sibling rivalry and the legacy of violence and abuse that they have survived to thrive in the shallow sexism of Nigeria. My sister the Serial Killer is a darkly comic description of two sisters teaming up against the powerful abusive men in their lives.

The sisters relationship is well written, Ayoola, is painted as a cheerful, blasé, charismatic young woman who traits could easily read as those of A sociopath and Korede is painted as being in Ayoola’s shadow, much more of a homely, dutiful, lonely, somber character.

To define this work, to place it in some sort of box, to give it a category in which to sit is almost too hard, as one tears through the 223 pages as a reader I was far too busy being entertained and engaged to care what type of book I was reading. Braithwaites skillful, evocative prose full of tension, and humor, driven forward by the cynicism in Korede’s voice keeps the narratives momentum racing ahead.