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To fly fromGDPFIMMICSUNEFInANGOMICSYour browser does not support the element. the south to the north of Nigeria takes only a couple of hours. Yet in one way, it is like going back in time. In Lagos state, the commercial capital in the south, women can expect to give birth to an average of 3.3 children during their lifetimes, which is what the world’s fertility rate was in 1990. In Katsina state in the north, the fertility rate is, at 7.4, higher than the global rate was in 1800.Family size is hardly the only difference between north and south Nigeria. Most northerners are Muslim, whereas the south is largely Christian. The north is much poorer than the south, with per person on average of $292, less than half what it is in the south, despite the fact that Nigeria has had plenty of northern presidents. It scores worse on social indicators such as child nutrition, school enrolment and literacy. Government spending on health and education, though low nationwide, is especially low in the north. Islamist insurgencies, banditry and fighting between farmers and herders are all much worse in the north than in the south.But the difference in fertility is particularly consequential because it correlates closely with economic development. Charlie Robertson of Partners, an asset manager, argues that fertility is one of “just three data points” that are “all you need” to know how far along the path to prosperity a country is. The others are adult literacy and electricity consumption per person. In a book called “The Time-Travelling Economist”, Mr Robertson examines how these three variables interact.As populations become better educated, families shrink. Instead of wanting lots of extra hands to toil in the fields and support their parents in their dotage, people start wanting fewer kids, so they can put them all through school. Educated mothers tend to have fewer and better-educated children. Smaller, better-educated families save more, and park their savings in banks. This pool of capital can finance the infrastructure of a modern economy, starting with electricity.The disparity between north and south Nigeria looks like a case in point. Map 1 shows fertility rates in all 36 Nigerian states plus Abuja, the capital, using estimates from , a -backed survey. Compare those rates with global averages over time, and a striking pattern emerges. Of the 19 northern states six have a fertility rate over six, roughly what the global rate was two centuries ago.Of the 17 southern states, by contrast, 13 have rates below four, the global rate in the mid-1970s. Literacy rates in the south are above 80% for women aged 15-49. In the north, by contrast, most states have rates below 50% and some are in the 30s or even 20s (see map 2). There are only five southern states where more than half of homes lack electricity; in the north, there are 17 (see map 3).Hasana Matthew, a 30-year-old mother in Borno state in the north-east, is typical. She lives in an informal home without electricity and reckons she has about 30 brothers and sisters. Her father had three wives, so it was hard to keep track. She never went to school; neither did her siblings. She has five children of her own, so far. They may end up better off than her: all have spent some time in school, and the oldest can read. But they face an uphill struggle.The combination of many mouths to feed and little cash income makes it hard to save. Ms Matthew has no bank account and her meagre savings are in cash. Again, this is typical: the scarcity of savings makes northern Nigeria considerably less attractive for banks. A measure of “financial exclusion” devised by , an , shows that most people in ten out of 19 northern states lack access to basic financial services. Across most of the south, more than 70% of people have access (see map 4) to them.Development in the north is thwarted by other long-standing factors besides high fertility. Christian missionaries established schools in the south but they were both less inclined to venture to the Muslim north and were less successful when they tried. Though school enrolment has improved since independence in 1960, the north still lags. Schools are largely a state, not a federal, responsibility, giving richer states an edge. Lagos state on the southern coast generates more than 65 times as much in local taxes as landlocked Yobe state in the north.Crime and instability are more debilitating in the north than in the south. Boko Haram, an extremist group that regards “Western” education as sinful and frequently attacks schools, is more active in the north. So are other jihadist groups. Northern states also see frequent conflict between settled farmers and nomadic herders, hampering economic activity. Nor do social attitudes help. Conservative Islamic laws in some northern states mandate no minimum age for marriage for girls, prompting many to drop out of school prematurely.The north’s misery is a problem for the country as a whole. It makes it trickier for the south to flourish. Bank deposits are concentrated in the south, but interest rates are set nationally, so capital is more expensive for southerners than it might be if their region were a separate country. And although public spending is low throughout the country and the federal government’s main source of revenues is oil, sales taxes on other goods sold in the south in effect subsidise the north.Yet change may be under way. The surveys found evidence of a big drop in the national fertility rate, from 5.8 in 2016 to 4.6 in 2021, with hefty reductions in both north and south. The data are messy: numbers from the National Population Commission put the rate at 5.1 in 2022, down from 5.5 in 2013. Still, some demographers sense a real shift in Nigeria’s demographic trajectory.Migration, either from north to south or from the countryside to a city, can make a big difference. Theresa Ikemu, a grandmother who hails from a rural part of Benue state in the north, recalls being expected to have lots of children to help plant the yams and millet. She had eight, and could not afford to educate them all.But now Ms Ikemu lives in Lagos, where there are no fields to tend and success depends more on brains than hands. Her 26-year-old daughter, Blessing, who helps her run a spice stall, says she wants no more than three babies, “so I can put them all through school”. Asked how she would feel about having eight, like her mother, Blessing groans with horror.
