My Sister the Serial Killer by Oyinkan Braithwaite

 

"Bleach will disinfect, but it's not great for cleaning residue, so I use it only after I have first scrubbed the bathroom of all traces of life and death"

I vividly recall seeing this title years ago at the Sydney Writer's Festival and being immediately intrigued. I’ve often wondered why the serial killer narrative draws me in with such regularity. Perhaps because, as Dr Scott Brown (author of Why We Love Serial Killers: The Curious Appeal of the World’s Most Savage Murderers) explains in this interview, because they are “exotic, rare and deadly” and for more see this fascinating article by the same author: https://www.psychologytoday.com/au/blog/wicked-deeds/202103/why-we-are-drawn-monsters-and-serial-killers. 

Now, as they say, back to the Show.
What Braithwaite delivers is an entertaining insight to what it might be like to have a serial killer in the family, while also representing the lengths we sometimes go to protect our own, often at our own expense. It highlights how much more you can get away with when you’re beautiful and the notion that beauty is harmless. A notion that is quickly dissuaded by studying real serial killers, some of whom were so successful because of their looks (i.e. Ted Bundy).

The book, set in Nigeria, begins with the introduction of nurse Korede, who has a rather difficult younger sister. Korede is the workhorse, the sensible one, the one always coming to the aid of her beautiful, younger sister, Ayoola.

Ayoola’s appeal to men is intoxicating, she seems to draw them in, enchant them and then…kill them. Her handiwork with a knife is starting to become a real problem for her sister who is always called in for ‘wet work’ – to dispose of the bodies. Korede’s only confidante is a coma patient and when it looks like her only potential love interest is about to be beguiled by Ayoola, life can get very complicated.

There’s a depth to this story that plays out in the girl’s shared history of a violent, unhappy childhood and one can’t help but wonder if Ayoola’s habits would differ had her father not tried to sell her off as a child to an older man. There is also the very familiar, destructive self-talk of Korede, where she compares herself to her beautiful sister and can’t believe that she is worthy of love because “love is only for the beautiful’. A lie that is consistently marketed to women, so we’ll buy more beauty products.

In essence, it is this lack of self-belief that is as dangerous to Korede as her sister is to men, because it convinces her to participate in her sister’s crimes and by the end of the novel you wonder who is the more troubled individual.

The novel was my book club’s selection for June / July, and it seems we might not be able to meet in person to discuss it thanks to a lockdown across New South Wales. I usually wait until after the event to post, but I’ve got a few spare moments and thought I’d profit from them. If you enjoy dark humour and good cleaning tips, then this might just be the novel for you.

4 out of 5,  Sisters can be lethal.