In 2009, a teenager in Colombo had a problem no shop in Sri Lanka could solve. His game needed clean registration of several simultaneous key presses for angled shots, passes and combinations, and his keyboard kept dropping them. He needed a mechanical keyboard, but store after store could not source one. Safwan Mansoor eventually bought it in Singapore and stumbled onto the idea that would shape the next decade and a half of his life. Today he is founder of TecRoot, one of the country’s best known specialist retailers for gaming, audio and enthusiast technology, and is behind Gearz, Reboot, Infinity Consultants, an education initiative and Ninja Lab, a gaming and simulation furniture brand eyeing Singapore and beyond. He is also pursuing a doctorate in business administration. None of it, he insists, began with a plan.
From the Arena to the Order Book
Before he was a founder, Mansoor won several national championships, represented Sri Lanka internationally and moved into coaching, which meant building teams and drawing the best from very different people. “I was no longer responsible only for my own performance,” he says. Competitive gaming is an honest classroom, he argues: decisions under pressure, preparation that only goes so far, circumstances that shift mid-match. Business is the same. “Markets change, competitors change, customers change, and you cannot be too attached to yesterday’s strategy.” He sets direction, explains why, and gives his team ownership of how, keeping standards, accountability and honest performance reviews in place. Talent is never enough; discipline, preparation, teamwork and good systems sustain a championship team, or a company.
The business began as a favour to himself. He already travelled to Singapore to help with his father’s business, and saw how many products there were unavailable at home. “I wasn’t starting with a grand business plan; I was solving the same kind of problem I had faced myself.” In 2013 he launched a Facebook page, CeeBee Technologies, named after his gaming handle, CB, selling imports to gaming friends who told him what they wanted.
It was lean: no shop, no warehouse, almost no stock. Orders came in advance through Google Forms and Sheets, which doubled as price lists. He often delivered in Colombo himself, couriers handled the rest, and payment came by cash or bank transfer. Sometimes he borrowed a confirmed order’s cost from his father and repaid it once the customer paid. With family covering his personal expenses, he kept most profit and slowly built working capital. Pre-orders taught cash flow discipline, customer trust and a principle he still follows: build on real demand rather than carry inventory and hope. He still archives those spreadsheets as a reminder of how basic things were.
Building a Brand, Not a Side Hustle
He ran CeeBee for about three years alongside a job as an ERP consultant, a test of whether entrepreneurship was a calling or an impulse. By the time he resigned he had his answer. TecRoot began with an unflattering critique from a gaming friend and early customer, a graphic designer, who said his Facebook posts were not very good. Mansoor joked that he only had time to buy and sell, and that if his friend handled marketing they could build something together. The friend agreed. They started fresh, with an identity apart from his gaming handle and a more professional customer experience. CeeBee became a general importing and distribution business while TecRoot became the retail brand, a separation he calls important, the start of thinking about a brand that could outgrow both founders.
The portfolio began with gaming and audio, then widened to computer accessories, corporate requirements, racing and flight simulation, gaming chairs and desks (customers think of a whole setup), and action figures, model vehicles, toys and collectibles for communities where gaming, film, technology and pop culture overlap. He now calls it a broader technology and lifestyle retailer.
Curation starts with whether customers want something the market serves poorly, then build quality, reliability, brand reputation, technical competitiveness and pricing, since an excellent product can make little sense after freight and taxes. He declines some he admires. Brands are judged on long term seriousness, spare parts, warranty and consistency, because importing is easy compared with supporting properly. An enthusiast store need not be a luxury one: prices span entry to best, and TecRoot’s premium lies in selection, team knowledge and support.
His hardest challenge is predictability. Sourcing, currency, logistics and demand interconnect, exchange rates shift landed costs, niche products move slowly, overstocking ties up capital, and customers expect international launches to arrive instantly. He is data driven but flexible, never overcommitting because something looks exciting abroad. Local retailers, grey market importers and overseas websites compete, and he cannot win by being cheapest; the edge is genuine products, proper warranty, knowledgeable advice and someone local to speak to. “Our competition is also yesterday’s version of TecRoot.”
The Long Game
Over three to five years he wants TecRoot among Sri Lanka’s most recognised and trusted destinations for technology and enthusiast products, while laying groundwork abroad, which needs stronger systems, wider supplier relationships and an operational structure for growth. Ninja Lab already points that way, reversing his journey from “bringing products from international markets into Sri Lanka” to taking home built brands to the world.
Asked what he would do differently, he points to delegation. He once did everything himself, but “there is a difference between being good at running a business and building a business that can run without you.” He would invest in people and scalable systems far earlier, though he does not regret the hands on years.
He chose a DBA, doctoral level yet tied to practice, to challenge instincts that experience makes dangerously dominant. Older generations see gaming as wasted time, he feels, yet it taught him strategic thinking, decision making under pressure, teamwork, communication, leadership and discipline. He wants to test whether those skills contribute to professional growth, leadership and entrepreneurship. Perhaps he will stop at a professorship, he jokes.
On local esports he mixes pride and impatience. Once there was almost no money; today the scene is larger and more commercial, with mobile gaming widening the audience, though he worries about losing the passion. “I don’t think Sri Lanka has a talent problem. The talent is here.” What is missing is an ecosystem: professional teams, consistent sponsorship, institutions moving at international speed and visible sustainable careers. He speaks from experience. Selected nationally for the Global Esports Games 2026, he lost the place when official approvals missed the international timeline.
His advice for young Sri Lankans: start with passion but do not rely on it, solve a real problem, start small, avoid unnecessary financial risk and partner with people who cover your weaknesses. He values AI for letting one person research markets, build websites and automate tasks, but warns, “AI should amplify your abilities, not replace your ability to think.” And do not confuse passion with impatience. Champions are not made overnight, and neither are companies.
From a single keyboard to a family of brands, his is a story of patient compounding. If his instinct for gaps in the market holds, the next chapter will be written well beyond Sri Lanka’s shores.
