Kakim Zarudin barks a string of figures into his mobile phone as he plucks meaty pumpkins from his garden, savouring his new status as a model entrepreneur.
The stocky father of five's transformation from fearsome Muslim rebel leader stands out on the southern Philippine island of Mindanao which has been wracked by more than three decades of insurgency.
Trading his guns for a hundred sacks of corn seeds when the Moro National Liberation Front (MNLF) signed a peace pact with Manila in 1996, Zarudin and 49 of his men became farmers.
Zarudin's band began the Mapia Multi-Purpose Co-operative that now has control of some 100 hectares (250 acres) of farmland around the town of Polomolok.
Washington, Manila's military ally, helped underwrite the peace with the United States Agency for International Development's Growth with Equity in Mindanao (GEM) program providing seed funds to help former rebels find a new way of life.
Zarudin and his men first planted corn, earned a modest income to build homes and to send their children to school. Not exactly the instant prosperity they were expecting after the peace pact, but it "gave us peace of mind and control over our lives," the 39 year-old said.
They have recently shifted to growing high-value vegetables, diversifying their resources and giving them better yields.
Old habits die hard. With his military bearing, Zarudin runs the hamlet like a drill sergeant and his word is law. His men still call him "commander" and he does not tolerate laziness.
"I run three households myself. I am able to send my children to school because of the earnings in the farm. The co-operative has just bought two vehicles and we supply vegetables and corn to nearby towns and provinces," Zarudin said as he plucked a three-kilogram (6.6-pound) squash.
The co-operative now earns about half a million pesos (8,870 dollars) a year, a good start considering they began from scratch when MNLF separatist leader Nur Misuari signed the deal with Manila.
Misuari became the governor of a Muslim autonomous region in Mindanao as part of the peace deal.
But the pact is deemed a failure, with Muslims still living in poverty. Misuari himself later led a failed rebellion and is now languishing in jail near Manila.
While noting many aspects of that agreement may have failed, Zarudin said the government has at least succeeded in Polomolok.
"This is the other side of the story. This is truly a success story for the former combatants," said Arnold Dacula, a GEM program co-ordinator.
"It was hard teaching them at first because they are not used to being ordered around by civilians. They thought farming was something taught in primary schools.
"But they are now rewarded for their efforts," Dacula said.
"It was really difficult at first. We had to get used to planting instead of carrying our rifles and guns," Zarudin said.
Like many of their former comrades, Zarudin and his men initially applied to be integrated into the police or military but failed to make the grade because many of them were not formally schooled.
For Zarudin, who had been a guerrilla in the jungles since he was seven, that was a painful reality. He found comfort in his family instead, and began working his parents' modest piece of land in Polomolok.
He and his men were later invited to join the GEM project, given sacks of corn seed and taught scientific methods of farming.
Zarudin and his men now belong to the more than 20,000 rebels-turned-farmers in the sleepy town of Polomolok.
Many of these farmers have formed co-operatives or associations to help sell their produce.
Filipino GEM volunteers act as advisers and connect the former combatants to agricultural companies, which provide training on pest control and fertiliser techniques.
Zarudin's land and that of his fellow farmers in the co-operative is planted with corn, sweet pepper, bittergourd, cucumber, string beans and tomatoes.
He now talks in farm jargon, carries an agriculture magazine and regularly consults a GEM volunteer - he says he wants to learn more about organic farming.
Zarudin's cellular phone rings, and he consults a blackboard. He has a smile on his weathered brown face because the call meant more orders for his produce.
"Oh by the way, 'Mapia' means happy in our dialect," Zarudin said, grinning. "Well, we are happy now."