There is little sense of history on Bajram Kelmendi Street in Prishtina. The river that gave the Vellusha neighborhood its name was covered over in the 1980s. The building frenzy that followed the 1999 war – largely unencumbered by permits or proper planning – has all but erased any traces of the old heart of Prishtina.

“Everything has changed here now. Those high buildings, shops and other things have created a picture that does not look like Prishtina,” Raif Rifati, a longtime resident, said.

To the dismay of some residents, the neighborhood has also become the unofficial centre for religious Muslims. Bearded men in short trousers and fully covered women — and even young girls — are an increasingly frequent site in Vellusha, along with dozens of shops catering to devout Muslims.

“This neighborhood has become as if it was ours in a way,” Xhejlane Morina, who works at a women’s boutique, said.

“We sell textiles for Islamic clothing, scarves, hijabs, long skirts – everything that a woman needs to cover herself,” Morina added, explaining that her business is based around the patrons of the nearby Hasan Beg Mosque.

She also says her customer base is growing, and that she frequently sells her wares to girls who are first-time headscarf buyers.

At the beginning of the street, just behind the National Theater, stand the headquarters of the Justice Party, a conservative religious party that advocates for the right of female students to wear headscarves in schools.

Continuing down the street, the influence of the Arab world is visible in the shop windows. The mannequins have their bodies, heads, and in some cases faces covered according to various interpretations of Islamic style. Some shop names are in Arabic, often emblazoned in the Arabic alphabet and in green and black.

The shops sell products that are hard to find in other parts of Prishtina: the Miswak toothbrush, which the Prophet Muhammad is said to have used; eastern spices and alcohol-free perfumes; religious books.

A woman wearing a hijab, walking down the street, said that the neighborhood was unremarkable other than the fact that she could find all the products she needs in one place.

“I would not say this has become a separate community but it is good here because I can easily find all the things I need,” she said, declining to give her name.

Islam has been a fixture in Kosovo for more than 500 years, ever since the Ottomans conquered the Balkans.

However, the stringent form on show here is a relatively recent import from the Middle East, which has come in part through charities and other NGOs.

The actions of religious extremists have dominated the headlines in Kosovo recently, as some citizens have traveled to Syria and Iraq and joined the wars there.

In mid-August, the government arrested 40 people suspected of activities linked to terrorism, such as recruiting fighters for the conflicts in the Middle East. Police also seized explosives and weapons that were in the possession of some of those now in detention.

Among those arrested was an imam. Shefqet Krasniqi, a prominent Islamic scholar and imam of Prishtina Grand Mosque, was also interrogated on suspicion inciting religious, national, and racial hatred.

Faton Morina, owner of one of the shops in the neighborhood and Xhejlane’s husband, says the arrests have only “poured fuel on the fire.

“What the government and police are doing is provoking something worse,” he said. “The accusations against the imams and their followers are unfounded and may provoke a revolt among the people,” he added.

“None of the sermons I attended incited any hatred, though if there are such cases, I am in favor of arrests,” he added.

In the meantime, more Islamic-oriented businesses continue to open in Vellusha.

Several weeks ago, Peace Cafe, which is located behind the neighborhood mosque, opened up and began serving non-alcoholic drinks.

The owner, Eroll, says the café is dry because he does not want to set a bad example.

Although he would not openly concede that he opened the café to attract Muslim clients, the walls are covered with photographs of mosques.

“Well, I cannot put photos of churches here,” he countered, when asked about the decor.

Below Peace Cafe and underneath the mosque is a MAXI supermarket that also sells no alcohol, unlike most branches of this chain.

While the devout clearly feel comfortable on Bajram Kelmendi street, others find the visibly conservative atmosphere off-putting.

Blerta Thaci, a student who moved recently to the neighborhood, says her first impressions left her feeling unwelcome.

“I have nothing against these shops, but in a way they are making an effort to impose everything on us,” she said.

“Several days ago, I went to one of the shops and the salesman who approached me immediately offered me a Koran,” she added.

Another young woman said she preferred not to pass through the neighborhood at all. “I cannot stand the way people stare at me,” she remarked.