Once upon a time two Pashtun families lived in harmony side by side in the eight generations old village of Shingy, which nestles in the foothills of the Samanak Mountain, in Afghanistan.
Life was good for the Kochi and the Akhonzada clans. There was plenty of fruit on the trees and crops in the fields. They visited each other's homes. Their children played together.
Then one day, seven years ago, everything changed. A storm came from the mountain and blew two trees down.
The Kochis claimed they owned land on which the trees had been standing.
The Akhonzada's said the land was theirs and was on loan to their neighbours.
A heated argument followed.
When the Kochis attempted to move the trees their former friends attacked them.
Armed with Kalashnikovs, the Akhonzadas shot six members of the Kochi family. Four died and two were injured.
Thus was the start of a Pashtun feud, or badal, which has since brought fear and terror to both families.
The Akhonzadas fled the village and moved to Jalalabad, about 30 miles away, fearful of revenge. Mazeed Akhonzada (21), claims that the Kochis have already murdered two members of his family.
The Kochis deny they have taken revenge. They further claim that after they fled the village, the Akhonzadas returned and planted landmines on their land. One villager was killed and two others had their legs blown off.
Sitting under a tree by the Lamatak river on a beautiful sunny afternoon, in a spot that could be thousands of miles away from the war, Nodragha Kochi tried to explain to The Irish Times how seven years on, it is still important that his family avenges the murders of his father, brother, uncle and cousin.
It is all to do with the Pashtun tradition and culture. And it explains a lot about Afghanistan. Pashtuns are a turbulent tribe prone to blood feuds who account for about half of Afghanistan's population of 20 million.
"It is our responsibility and the responsibility of family members to avenge these deaths," he said. "It does not matter how long it takes, even if it takes generations. It is part of our culture."
As four members of his family were killed, a similar number from the other side must also be killed.
He said it was difficult to do anything during Taliban times. Anyone found killing another would have been arrested and executed.
The Kochis felt somewhat safe.
But now that the Taliban are gone, and law is back in the hands of local commanders, the Kochis are petrified.
They are afraid to go into Jalalabad for fear that their enemy will attack.
Nodragha's three sons, Shahagha (9), Zargai (7) and Khairuwlah (4) know about the murders, and that the responsibility to seek revenge may be passed down to them, in accordance with Pashtun law, if this generation fails.
The family have four Kalashnikov rifles, and Nodragha's younger brother, 15-year-old Dilagha, has already been practising for the day he may be called on.
He learned to handle a Kalashnikov when he was 14 and boasts he is already a good shot.
Mazeed Akhonzada, says if his family moves back to the village the fighting will start again. "They will kill us and we will kill them."
"Every enemy waits for the chance."
According to Akahdad Ismailzai, a psychologist in Nanghahar University in Jalalabad, Afghanistan is in the grip of a "Kalashnikov culture".
The breakdown in law and order in Afghanistan is due to years of war. Revenge is now part of the culture of this country.
Before the Soviet war, he said between five per cent and 10 per cent of the population would have lived by the law of vengeance.
He estimated that now most of the people of the country are prepared to take revenge by killing.
"There is no security here in Afghanistan and that has opened the door to chaos," he said.
"If there is no security there is no social contact with people. Human nature is affected by environmental factors. People don't like education. They like Kalashnikovs.
"In order to have security we need a government. That will lead to security which will lead to education and employment," Mr Ismailzai said.
"Before in Afghanistan, people asked the government for jobs. Now they ask commanders."
But the time-honoured Pashtun law of eye for an eye violence is their built-in means of conflict resolution.
And the Kochis are still waiting for the opportunity to carry out what their tradition demands of them.