It's often said that Sierra Leone's Refugee All Stars rose from the ashes to become one of west Africa's most successful and inspirational bands. And it's true.
"When people look at our story they will have courage. They wil learn the lesson to be able to overcome obstacles," says Reuben M Koroma, the Refugee All Stars founder.
When Koroma fled civil war in his native Sierra Leone in 1997, like many of his compatriots he ended up in a refugee camp in neighbouring Guinea. He looked for a way of coping with the pain and boredom of life in the camp.
"I started playing music because I had a psychological problem," he says. "We all did. Being separated from my country, my contacts, I'd lost family members, I lost propery, so I was looking for something that would help me come out of that situation. And I found music. Music helped me to reform my life."
Many others felt those same healing powers. Before long hoards of refugees were coming to listen to Reuben, his wife and another musician Franco, perform in the camp on old guitars donated by a Canadian NGO.
When American filmmakers Zach Niles and Banker White met the band in the Sembakounya Camp, they were so inspired by their story they wanted to document it in a film.
Reuben set about finding the musicians he'd played with before the war and the Refugee All Stars grew.
The film made the band famous worldwide. And, thankfully, their music is every bit as inspirational as their story.
Audiences the world over are drawn to their infectious dance beats which draw on a home-grown Sierra Leone rhythm called Joli - not unlike Congolese sukkous - plus reggae and the more traditional percussion-led Goombay.
No nationality is too challenging for the Refugee All Stars, says Koroma.
"When we came to Tokyo, a journalist came to me and said it's very difficult for Japanese people to dance, they just stare at musicians and stand like non-living things. But I told him they will surely dance to our music because we play a dancing music. And to be sure when we played there, it's like the whole crowd was dancing."
Ten years after the end of the Sierre Leone civil war the band has just released its third and latest album Radio Salone.
Salone means Sierra Leone in the Krio dialect which all 16 ethnic groups can understand, Koroma tells us.
And the title also pays homage to the good old wireless.
Not only did radio play a huge role during the civil war, providing refugees in camps with an escape and connecting them to the outside world, for musicians like Koroma, it's still their main source of inspiration.
"We're a poor country. We can't afford tape recorders, DVDs or CDs," he says. "It's through the radio we are able to listen to all different types of music in the world. It has been a very powerful influence for us to become musicians."
A number of the songs on the album, such as Kali, take on more resonance when you know what they're about.
"Kali is a pumpkin, it's something we reject, you think it's not useful," explains Koroma. "But some people do eat it, they make it useful.
This is a story that reflects us. When we were playing music in Sierra Leone people didn't care about us. And then these Americans and one Canadian made us useful."
Other songs come from a more obvious political perspective.
Gbara Case attacks witchcraft and the get-up-and-dance Big Fat Dog (eat the meat and give me a big fat bone) is a parable on the evils of not sharing.
The band have hooked up with the World Food Programme to raise awareness over the huge numbers of people going hungry especially in the Sahel region. They've made a video clip of the song which you can view here.
And the Afro-beat inspired Man Muyu which means let's be patient says Koroma.
"[It's] just to tell our people that we have to be patient because we're coming from war and we have to exercise patience to rebuild our country."
Sierra Leone's Refugee All Stars are spreading their positive messages of hope on tour.
They played the Festival Du Labyrinthe De La Voix, Saint-Junien, France Sunday ahead of a number of dates this summer in the US.