A trip to the mosque was not the only thing Shakoor thought about after regaining his freedom.
Like many incarcerated people reintegrating into society, there were many things to consider, many of which were disrupted by his role as a wrongly condemned man: finding housing, meeting loved ones, finding work.
He did better than most, landing a job at a Bay Area Middle Eastern restaurant called Falafel Corner a few weeks after his release. The skills he had with makeshift hot plates in his cell and in the prison kitchen were now put to use in building a new career, and he quickly became a restaurant manager.
In 2016, the restaurant opened a second location in Sacramento, and in 2018, Shakoor bought out its previous owner. He says the business now has more than 30 franchises around Northern California.
If cooking was one skill that Shakoor continued to develop after his release from prison, his passion for justice reform was another.

In 2014, Shakoor, who earned a distance learning degree from Ohio University while incarcerated, testified in the State Legislature in support of SB 1391, which expanded access to college for inmates in California prisons. The bill was approved and signed into law in September 2014.
In 2023, he also became a vocal sponsor of SB 309, which created international standards for religious grooming and head covering in California prisons.
He drew on his experience of being persecuted for showing religious devotion in prison, recalling an incident in 2002 when he was detained for seven days for refusing to remove his turban, a requirement to identify as a Pakistani Muslim.
But perhaps his favorite form has come in the form of sharing food and worship with fellow Muslims in prisons across the state, a practice he began in 2017.
It is said that he usually makes such trips about five times a year, sometimes up to 10. It is no small thing, requiring hours of cooking and a huge challenge to manage the tedious work of the prison.
But Shakoor sees the experience as a source of camaraderie and hope for inmates in an otherwise hopeless situation.
During his time at San Quentin, when he still believed he would be in prison for the rest of his life, he remembers being attracted to two flowers that managed to grow from an obscure rock.
He said: “We can't always change our place, just like the flower couldn't. “But we can learn to move beyond what holds us back and take advantage of the opportunities we have.”
Back in Solano's room decorated with beautiful pictures, Kali, a 69-year-old man enjoying his burrito, whom Shakoor has known since his time at Pleasant Valley State Prison, talks about the purpose and peace he has. acquired through Islam.
He first converted in 1992, while in solitary confinement, where he picked up what he called “moral writings” by poring over the Bible and the Koran.
For many incarcerated, religion provides a means of resisting, if not escaping, the downward pressure of despair that comes with a life of perpetual incarceration.
The very closeness of the free world, which is often seen behind a window or a concertina fence, only adds to the obvious interest. In such circumstances, it seems strange that the sources of love, creativity, and fellowship emerge.
It's a feeling Shakoor understands all too well, and one that Kali says is now helping others try to live with it by leading anger management classes in Solano.
He quoted his favorite verse from the Qur'an: “Surely, suffering comes with relief.”