Why are some South Asians choosing not to have children amid a population crisis?
Zuha Siddiqui is currently designing her new house in Karachi, creating a blueprint for her future life in Pakistan’s largest metropolis.
Her parents will live in the downstairs portion of this house, “because they’re growing old, and they don’t want to climb stairs”, she says.
She will live in a separate portion upstairs, with furniture she likes. Siddiqui feels this is important because she recently celebrated her 30th birthday and wants a place she can finally call her own, she tells Al Jazeera over a phone call.
Siddiqui has worked as a journalist reporting on topics including technology, climate change and labour in South Asia for the past five years. She now works remotely, freelancing for local and international publications.
Despite all her plans for a family home of her own, Zuha is one of a growing number of young people in South Asia for whom the future does not involve having children.
A demographic challenge is looming over South Asia. As is the case in much of the rest of the world, birth rates are on the decline.
While a declining birth rate has been mostly associated with the West and Far East Asian countries such as Japan and South Korea, countries in South Asia where birth rates have generally remained high are finally showing signs of following the same path.
Generally, to replace and maintain current populations, a birth rate of 2.1 children per woman is required, Ayo Wahlberg, a professor in the anthropology department at the University of Copenhagen, told Al Jazeera.
According to a 2024 US Central Intelligence Agency publication comparing fertility rates around the world, in India, the 1950 birth rate of 6.2 has plummeted to just above 2; it is projected to fall to 1.29 by 2050 and just 1.04 by 2100. The fertility rate in Nepal is now just 1.85; in Bangladesh, 2.07.
Declining economic conditions
In Pakistan, the birth rate remains above the replacement rate at 3.32 for now but it is clear that young people there are not immune to the pressures of modern life.
“My decision to not have children is purely monetary,” says Siddiqui.
Siddiqui’s childhood was marked by financial insecurity, she says. “Growing up, my parents didn’t really do any financial planning for their children.” This was the case for several of her friends, women in their 30s who are also deciding not to have children, she adds.
While her parents sent their children to good schools, the costs of an undergraduate or graduate education were not accounted for and it is not common for parents in Pakistan to set aside funds for a college education, she says.
While Siddiqui is single, she says her decision not to have children would stand even if she was attached. She made her decision soon after she became financially independent in her mid-20s. “I don’t think our generation will be as financially stable as our parents’ generation,” she says.
High inflation, rising living costs, trade deficits and debt have destabilised Pakistan’s economy in recent years. On September 25, the International Monetary Fund (IMF) approved a $7bn loan programme for the country.
Like many young people in Pakistan, Siddiqui is deeply worried about the future and whether she will be able to afford a decent standard of living.
Even though inflation has fallen, living costs continue to rise in the South Asian country, albeit at a slower rate than before. The Consumer Price Index (CPI) rose by 0.4 percent in August after a 2.1 percent increase in July, local media reported.
Work-life (im)balance
Pakistan is not alone. Most countries in South Asia are grappling with slow economic growth, rising inflation, job shortages and foreign debt.
Meanwhile, as the global cost of living crisis continues, couples find they have to work more hours than before, leaving limited room for a personal life or to dedicate to children.
Sociologist Sharmila Rudrappa conducted a study among IT workers in India’s Hyderabad, published in 2022, on “unintended infertility”, which examined how individuals might not experience infertility early in their lives but might make decisions that lead them to infertility later on due to circumstances.
Her study participants told her that they “lacked time to exercise; they lacked time to cook for themselves; and mostly, they lacked time for their relationships. Work left them exhausted, with little time for social or sexual intimacy.”
Mehreen*, 33, who is from Karachi, identifies strongly with this. She lives with her husband as well as his parents and elderly grandparents.
Both she and her husband work full-time and say they are “on the fence” about having children. Emotionally, they say, they do want to have children. Rationally, it’s a different story.
“I think work is a big part of our lives,” Mehreen, who works in a corporate job at a multinational company, told Al Jazeera.
They are “almost sure” they will not have children, citing the expense of doing so as one of the reasons. “It’s ridiculous how expensive the entire activity has become,” says Mehreen.
“I feel like the generation before us saw it [the cost of raising children] as an investment in the kid. I personally don’t look at it that way,” she says, explaining that many from the older generations saw having children as a way of providing themselves with financial security in the future – children would be expected to provide for their parents in old age. That won’t work for her generation, she says – not with the economic decline the country is undergoing.
Then there is the gender divide – another major issue where the younger generation differs from their parents.
Mehreen says she is keenly aware that there is a societal expectation for her to take the front seat in parenting, rather than her husband, despite the fact that both of them are earning money for the household. “It is a natural understanding that even though he would want to be an equal parent, he’s just not wired in this society to understand as much about parenting.
“My husband and I see ourselves as equal partners but do our respective mums see us as equal partners? Maybe not,” she says.
Besides money and domestic responsibilities, other factors have influenced Mehreen’s decision as well. “Obviously, I always think that the world is going to end anyway. Why bring a life into this messed-up world?” she says dryly.
Like Mehreen, many South Asians are anxious about raising children in a world marred with climate change, in which the future seems uncertain.
Mehreen remembers how, as a child, she never thought twice about eating seafood. “Now, you have to think so much, considering microplastics and all of that. If it is this bad now, what will happen 20 years, 30 years from now?”
Bringing children into a broken world
In her essay collection, Apocalypse Babies, Pakistani author and teacher Sarah Elahi chronicles the difficulties of being a parent now when climate anxiety dominates the concerns of children and young people.
She writes about how climate change was an issue brushed under the rug throughout her childhood in Pakistan. However, with rising global temperatures, she notices how her own children and students are increasingly living with constant “anthropogenic anxiety”.
Elahi’s sentiments ring true for many. From increased flight turbulence to scorching heatwaves and deadlier floods, the debilitating effects of environmental damage threaten to make life more difficult in the coming years, say experts and organisations including Save the Children.
Siddiqui says she realised it would not be viable to have children when she was reporting on the environment as a journalist in Pakistan. “Would you really want to bring a child into a world which might be a complete disaster once you die?” she asks.
Several writers and researchers, including those affiliated with the United States think tank Atlantic Council and University College London (UCL), agree that South Asia is among the regions of the world bearing the brunt of climate change.
The 2023 World Air Quality report published by Swiss climate group IQAir found that cities in South Asian countries including Bangladesh, Pakistan and India have the worst air quality of 134 countries monitored.
Poor air quality affects all aspects of human health, according to a review published by the Environmental Research Group at Imperial College London in April 2023.
That review found that when pregnant women inhale polluted air, for example, it can hinder the development of the fetus. Additionally, it established links between poor air quality and low birth weight, miscarriages and stillbirths. For young women like Siddiqui and Mehreen, these are all just more reasons not to have children.
Fears of isolation
Siddiqui has built herself a strong support system of friends who share her values; a best friend since the 9th grade, her former college roommate and some people she has become close to in recent years.
In an ideal world, she says, she would be living in a commune with her friends.
Fears about being lonely in the future sometimes still creep up in Siddiqui’s mind, however.
A week before she spoke to Al Jazeera, she was sitting in a cafe with two of her friends – women in their late 30s who, like her, are not interested in having children.
They talked about their fears of dying alone. “It’s something that plagues me quite a bit,” Siddiqui told her friends.
But, now, she shakes this off, hoping it is an irrational fear.
“I don’t want to have kids simply for the sake of having someone to take care of me when I’m 95. I think that’s ridiculous.”
Siddiqui says she discussed the cafe conversation with her best friend.
“She was like, ‘No, you’re not gonna die alone. I will be there’.”
*Name changed for anonymity.