Jack peered around the corner into the busy convention hall. Everywhere he looked, he could see thousands of his countrymen chatting and exchanging anecdotes. Someone patted him on the shoulder. Jack jumped and looked back.
"Oh, no reason to be nervous, bruv!" A toothy grin smiled back. "You're not from 'round 'ere, are ya?"
"No," chuckled Jack, "I'm not. I'm new you see and-"
"And that's just fine!" cut in the stranger. "We love to see new faces."
"Thank you," smiled Jack.
"No problem at all! My name's 'enry by the way. Come on, the meeting's starting."
Jack, Henry and the other men (and some women) crowded into the packed convention hall. Loudspeakers were set up in all the corners, and a big stage sat in the center, with a microphone and pedestal. A stout, pudgy gentleman [1] mounted the steps and strode towards the pedestal as the crowd began to applaud.
"Please, ladies and gentlemen, settle down!"
A hush fell over the crowd, and the pudgy gentleman began to speak.
"Welcome all to the Fortieth Annual Party Congress of the Rhodesian National Party!"
Cheers and applause erupted from the crowd. Jack felt compelled to join in. After the applause had died down, he began again:
"Before we begin, for this auspicious occasion, I have here, in my hand, the lyrics to our new party anthem!" More applause followed this.
Jack looked at the pamphlet being passed out. As soon as he looked inside, the man on the stage shouted
"One, two, three!" and the crowd began to sing to the tune of "Clementine." The lyrics ran:
Land of rivers; Land of mountains
Lit by the countenance divine
You're my only sacred homeland
Oh, Rhodesia, land of mine
Gold and silver, wood and sugar
Come forth richly from the ground
The turacos sing their chorus
It's a truly perfect sound
Fair Rhodesia, land of promise
Let us be worthy of her name!
And for eons past tomorrow
Let the famous chorus ring
Land of rivers; Land of mountains
Lit by the countenance divine
You're my only sacred homeland
Oh, Rhodesia, land of mine
Jack wasn't sure what it meant to be Rhodesian, but he was sure this came close.
[1] Edgar Whitehead, OTL Sixth S.R. Prime Minister and the "pudgy gentleman"