At a school-turned-shelter in Port Sudan, rehearsal is a modest affair, but three years of war and the humble surroundings do little to dampen the sweet tunes rising from the two musicians.
With piles of bedding pushed to the side, the lone singer croons along to the melodies of a keyboardist -- part of a group of some 120 Sudanese artists who fled the brutal fighting between the army and the Rapid Support Forces.
In the courtyard downstairs, actors, screenwriters, painters and directors work in the sunshine, before retreating to their dormitories at night.
"It's like our own little cultural center," says visual artist Mohira Fathi, who fled the central state of Al-Jazira with her husband and son.
But the El-Rabat center is a far cry from the countless other shelters in the army's wartime capital of Port Sudan, where disease outbreaks and unrelenting hunger stalk tens of thousands.
Across the country, over nine million people are internally displaced and a record 33.7 million are in need of aid.
Like everyone else, these artists came to the army's wartime capital of Port Sudan on the Red Sea exhausted, traumatized and destitute.
"When I arrived, there weren't even any fans to help with the sweltering heat. People were sleeping on mats on the floor, with no access to water," musical troupe director Hossam al-Din al-Taher told AFP.
- 'Blessing' -
Slowly, as the war dragged on, word spread of a makeshift artists' commune forming, and people started flocking to the school in the hopes that being around fellow artists would help keep their careers alive.
"We didn't have instruments or costumes," Taher remembers, and artists had to take on odd jobs to earn a living, pooling their money together to buy a guitar here, a set of paints there.
Now, Taher conducts a small orchestra between piles of luggage.
For filmmaker Mohamed Ali Ibrahim, "it's a blessing that all of these artists found each other in the same place."
They share everything: food, money, mid-rehearsal coffees, living quarters separated only by fabric sheets, and every gig that comes their way.
Three years of war have destroyed Sudan's cultural scene. Theaters, studios and museums have been shut down or looted, while many of Sudan's top artists have fled across borders.
But El-Rabat's artists make do. They've put on shows for the neighborhood, held local photography exhibitions and, this Ramadan, had some of their actors return to the airwaves in a modest radio drama.
"We've learned there is no giving up," musician Assem Abdel Aziz told AFP after rehearsal.
"We have dreams here, that yard outside is full of dreams, full of energy," he says, flanked by a drum kit to his left and a mosquito net-covered cot to his right.
