First of all I have never read a book that has a character with my name so for that reason this is a winner and I really need to read more Yoruba fiction.
There are many more reasons why My Sister The Serial Killer is an excellent book but being able to A. Relate and even further B. IDENTIFY with characters in a novel is a pretty new experience for me.
This isn’t me saying that every book up until 2019 has been written by and for white men but in deciding to dedicate part of my blog to books, I have taken on the responsibility to find ones that connect with me and *cringes* my readers. I don’t think that every book I read/ review has to be one written by a writer of colour but I also love having the choice. A choice that is becoming more varied.
Back to business: Set in Lagos this book follows Korede and her sister, who by definition is a a serial killer (Because 3 and thats it. That’s your title.) We get a little peak of the serial killer phenomenon from a pretty new perspective. Not from the victim nor the perpetrator themselves. But from the accessory to the gory crimes.
Imagine each time your sibling rings you, you are scared that it may have happened again. IT being that they may have struck and STRUCK meaning KILL???
I always thought that my loyalty to my siblings was UNWAVERING but I can tell you right now that it isn’t. As someone with 6siblings I have definitely received my fair share of drunk calls from sisters and brothers who are heartbroken/ sad/ angry/ locked out. But thank God I am yet to get the “I just killed my partner and we need to bury him in the forrest” phone call. And in case you guys are reading this: I WILL CALL THE POLICE. I AM TOO CUTE TO GO TO JAIL!
I always stray from *spoilers* when it comes to my reviews, I want you to enjoy the books I do without telling unnecessary things about the plot or characters, I don’t want to reveal things that could taint or ruin how you consume the books if (and hopefully when) you choose to consume them. However I don’t think that it would be possible to ruin this story for you, even if I chose to spill all the beans, but don’t stress that isn’t part of my plans.
The plot is pretty simple, you have one sister who is a killer and one who isn’t. That is the crux of it and its beautiful. Set in a traditional Nigerian household you get a little glimpse into what it is like living within Yoruba culture (something a few people have asked me quite a lot over the years)
Even though the title is pretty ‘tell-all’ there are a few twists and turns and a cheeky little love triangle thrown in for good measure which keeps you turning the pages and almost missing your stop on the bus home; true story.. Happened to me the other day.
I think is I had to describe this book I would do so as morbidly funny. You don’t want to giggle when Ayoola ‘accidentally’ kills yet another lover but you kinda finding yourself giggling a touch. Not loads, just a little bit.
You don’t ever think that you will find yourself wanting Ayoola to strike again, which you may actually not want. But I did. I am very aware that this may make me a bit of a weirdo. But we move on:
To the last thing that I love about this book and that is how it isn’t trying to be a book about a black serial killer. It isn’t trying to check a diversity box. It is a story, a bloody good one at that, where the characters and the setting are in Africa, and that is that.