BOOK REVIEW: My Sister, The Serial Killer by Oyinkan Braithwaite

Note: this book was read and reviewed by me in January of 2024 on a previous site that no longer exists.

I came across My sister, the Serial Killer, while scrolling aimlessly on #bookstagram. Even before reading the blurb, the captivating cover and intriguing title hooked me.

How far would you go to, protect the ones you love?

This is the intriguing question posed by Oyinkan Braithwaite's debut novel. Whether the story delivers an answer is an entirely different thing. But we’ll get to that.

When Korede receives a panic call from her sister, Ayoola, she already knows the drill. Ayoola has killed another boyfriend in self-defense, leaving Korede with yet another body to take care of.

Despite her sister’s murderous tendencies, Korede always puts her first. That is, until her longtime crush, Tade, takes an interest in Ayoola. Now, Korede must choose. Will she finally put a stop to Ayoola, or will she let another man die at the hands of her sister?

"Korede, I killed him.”

The book opens with Ayoola greeting Korede with four familiar words, words that Korede had hoped never to hear again.

Korede is then transformed into the fixer—moving bodies, erasing evidence, and cleaning up crime scenes.

She does it all with the practiced precision and meticulous technique of someone who has done it one too many times.

Their roles are immediately evident. Ayoola makes the mess, and Korede cleans it up.

The Plot

“She will always have me and I will always have her; no one else matters.”

Although there seems to be a lot going on when reading the book, there isn't much of a plot.

The author jumps back and forth between their abusive father, the previous murders, past, present. And in the present, not much is happening.

Tade, a doctor at the hospital where Korede works as a nurse, takes an interest in Ayoola, which makes Korede jealous because she has been in love with Tade for years. Then there’s the added fact that Ayoola is notorious for casually killing off her boyfriends.

That’s the entire plot.

And if you’re thinking that it doesn’t sound like a thriller, you’d be right. This is more of a family drama, centered around two toxically co-dependent sisters, than a serial killer thriller.

Because the story is told through the eyes of the fixer rather than the serial killer, most of the action happens off the page.

This doesn’t mean it isn’t interesting.

On the contrary, the short, snappy chapters keep the pace moving at an alarmingly fast pace. I was constantly on the edge of my seat.

Will Korede finally do something about Ayoola to save her crush?

This question drove my anxiety to an all-time high, and I could barely stop myself from turning to the final pages and peeking at the answer.

Well, thank goodness I didn't, because that would have robbed me of the disastrous experience that is the ending.

But more on that later.

The Killer

Have you ever met someone so beautiful that the world tilts and turns to their tune—someone so stunning that men and women fall over themselves to fulfill their wants?

I haven't, but maybe I’ve just led too narrow a life because Ayoola is apparently this person.

From the beginning of the book, she is self-absorbed and spoiled, speaking and acting with the confidence of someone who is used to getting her way. Like she can do no wrong in the eyes of the world.

Even after committing murder, she has no remorse. I am more haunted by her actions than she is.

When Korede asks about the latest victim, Ayoola narrates yet another tale about a sexual predator and domestic abuser whom she had to kill in self-defense.

As Ayoola details her story, Korede asks all the logical questions for us.

Why was Ayoola carrying a knife if she didn't intend to kill him? If he was trying to attack her, then wouldn't he be coming at her from the front? So why was there a stab wound on his back?

All valid questions.

If only Korede had asked them out loud.

When Ayoola tearfully asks Korede, “Are you angry at me?” I genuinely wanted to slap her.

You killed a man—again. One can be blamed on self-defense. Maybe two. But three?

But Korede doesn’t even blink at this.

“Ayoola lives in a world where things must always go her way. It’s a law as certain as the law of gravity.”

The Fixer

“It takes a whole lot longer to dispose of a body than to dispose of a soul, especially if you don’t want to leave any evidence of foul play.”

Ayoola is obviously psychopathic, but what about Korede?

I liked her. I understood her. In some ways, I am her.

As an older sister myself, I understand the desire to do anything for my sibling, to sacrifice anything to help my family, but does that extend to covering up heinous crimes?

Nothing Ayoola does seems to even tempt Korede to consider doing the right thing—report to the authorities, or at least get her some psychological help.

Not until Ayoola starts dating her crush.

If it was any other person, Korede probably wouldn’t care. She would probably sit still, waiting for the next call to clean up another body.

So, it's petty jealousy and not a sincere desire to do the right thing that has her finally questioning Ayoola.

“Why should her hands be clean, while mine become more and more stained?”

What does it say about Korede that she is willing to turn a blind eye while Ayoola continues to kill off the men of Lagos?

Maybe she is reluctant to cut herself off from her sister because she needs to feel needed?

After all, it’s the only situation in which she has control over her sister. Ayoola might be the beautiful and popular one, but no one can clean up a crime scene like Korede. That's a flex, I guess.

The Motive

As for Ayoola’s motive for murder, your guess is as good as mine.

I think she’s perhaps resentful of the world for never seeing past her beauty. She’s also a talented fashion designer, but none of those men care about that. They are solely interested in her face and her body.

Maybe it’s this resentment that drives her to kill them.

In some sick way, maybe she believes she’s doing the world a favor by punishing these men. She’s never had to deal with the consequences of her actions, so I think it’s completely on-brand for her to carry out her frustrations in such an unhinged way.

“He isn’t deep. All he wants is a pretty face. That’s all they ever want.”

But these are just theories, of course, because the book doesn’t expand on any of the characters.

The Stereotypical Characters

They all turn out to be one-dimensional cut-outs of their roles.

Korede is the stereotypical first daughter—organized, tidy, and self-sacrificing. The fact that she’s a nurse is the icing on the cake, because, of course, she’s in health care.

Ayoola is the stereotypical youngest sibling—spoiled, beautiful, and occasionally psychopathic.

They both lack development. Sadly, this is just one of the many flaws the book has towards the end.

The Ending I Anticipated

I don’t like surprises. I’m too anxious to endure suspense, so I’m that person who will peek at the end of a story to determine if a book is worth reading.

Even when I restrain myself from doing that, I can’t help running through multiple scenarios for the ending to keep myself from being surprised. It’s basically nearly impossible to genuinely surprise me.

Well, this story achieved the impossible.

As I read, I went through every ridiculous, plot-twisty scenario possible.

Maybe Korede has dissociative identity disorder, and Ayoola is one of her alters (not because I believe in these stereotypes but because they're often so frequently poorly portrayed in media).

Maybe Korede is psychotic, and both Ayoola and the murders are part of her delusions.

Maybe Korede dreamed it all. Maybe Ayoola is only a figment of Korede’s imagination, invented to help her cope with the murders she herself committed.

The actual ending is far more frustrating and ridiculous than any of these.

The Ending I Got

None.

Yes, the book ends without an ending.

No resolution. No answers.

That’s why there’s no character development, no deeper exploration of themes, no insight into character motivations, and no repercussions whatsoever for our serial killer.

My Sister, The Serial Killer, turns out to be nothing more than a shallow, humorous story.

It’s as if a drone hovering over Lagos descended over a random household for a short while to give us a glimpse into its occupants’ lives. And then, just as quickly, it flew away, off to look into another home.

What we're getting is a short piece of Korede and Ayoola’s story, and it seems like that’s all we’re going to get.

Because of the ending (or lack of one), a lot of the preceding chapters seem pointless.

For example, what’s the point of Muhtar waking from his coma?

Muhtar is a comatose patient whom Korede has been confiding in, believing him to be too close to death to hear her. When he suddenly wakes up and, sure enough, knows her secrets, murders and all, she is understandably afraid.

Will he spill her secrets?

Well, apparently not. He quickly recovers and is discharged from the hospital. He doesn't even consider reporting to the authorities. Maybe after being in a coma, the fact that a serial killer is walking free among the general population feels insignificant.

“What led me to confide in a body that still had breath left in it?”

And what about Tade, the handsome doctor, Korede's crush and Ayoola's new victim?

What’s the point of leaving him alive? When Ayoola inevitably attacks him, he manages to save himself, but when he tries to tell the authorities what happened, nothing comes of it. So why isn't he just killed off like the rest of the victims?

Were all these details the author’s way of tricking us into thinking that we would get some kind of satisfying ending, only to leave us blue-balled?

It’s as if the author wrote a full-length novel and then misplaced the latter half of it, you know, the part where the characters grow and change.

It’s definitely a surprising end.

A plot twist I could never predict.

But rather than leave me excited and giddy, it left me restless and unsatisfied, like being abruptly thrown off the tracks in the middle of a high-stakes race, like being cut off from my supply in the middle of a high.

 The Writing

“Is this how he sees her? As an exotic beauty? I console myself with the knowledge that even the most beautiful flowers wither and die.”

Ms. Braithwaite's writing is excellent. It's witty and flowed well. This, combined with the first-person present tense and short chapters, made for a very quick read. You get the sense of flying through the book.

The ending feels so much more disappointing because the rest of the book is so good.

"But the truth is, there is no way to make cleaning sound sexy - unless you are cleaning a sports car, in a bikini.”

Themes

There is some amusing commentary on society, and in particular, men, and how their shallowness can lead to their downfall, sometimes at the hands of a pretty serial killer.

The story also touches on familial obligations and how we sometimes feel bound to protect our family, even at the cost of our morals.

I’ll have to reserve my comment on how well it delivers on this until I see the missing half of the story (which I'm sure exists somewhere).

“We are hardwired to protect and remain loyal to the people we love.”

Final Thoughts

Anticlimactic is an understatement.

It isn’t the thriller I was expecting, nor is it the deep exploration of family dynamics that I later thought it would be.

In the end, it's little more than a short, shallow story.

Regardless, I was fully prepared to give it five stars, if only because I was enjoying it so much, but the end ruined it for me.

Plot 3

Writing 4

Characters 3.5

Theme 3.5

3.5 stars.

Who Is It For?

This is one of those pseudo-thriller books that will keep anyone entertained.

It won’t change your life, but it's definitely worth a casual read, at least once.

“I don't know... it's his words against yours." "Against ours, Korede. It's his words against ours.”