There are champions who wear their crowns with careful reverence, mindful of how quickly gold can tarnish in the unforgiving glare of competition. Then there is Nabil Anane, twenty-one years old and already a ONE Bantamweight Muay Thai World Champion, who speaks of his throne with the easy confidence of a man who believes he’s only just begun building his empire.
The numbers tell one story — an undefeated march through 2025, victories stacked like cordwood against winter’s cold. But Anane’s ambitions sketch something grander, a blueprint that includes not just defending his Muay Thai title but reaching across the divide to claim kickboxing gold as well. It is the kind of hunger that separates the merely talented from the truly dangerous.
“If I can do the same thing as 2025, it would be great. There is no secret to my success. I’ll just continue to work hard and have discipline all the time — that’s it. It’s easy to know how, but it’s hard to do. I’ll just continue working hard. Behind the scenes, behind all the victories, it’s always very hard. There are always some small problems every time. You just have to surpass them, and good things will come after,” he said.
It is a philosophy borrowed from the old masters — the understanding that glory is merely the visible portion of an iceberg, with all the grinding, unglamorous work hidden beneath the surface. Anane, trained under the watchful eye of Mehdi Zatout, has learned this lesson well enough to recite it like scripture.
His 2026 canvas remains largely unpainted, but the young champion has already selected his colors. Anyone will do in kickboxing, he suggests, though his tone implies something less than indifference and more like calculated patience. Experience is the currency he seeks in that realm, and he’s willing to fight his way through the entire marketplace to acquire it.
“Next year, I can fight anyone, just for experience. It’s good because I need more experience in kickboxing also. Now I’m not even in the rankings yet, so I can fight anyone. But it makes sense to fight for a [Kickboxing World Title]. I’m a champ, you know, so I think I don’t need to be in the rankings,” he said.
The logic possesses a certain aristocratic flair. Why should a king require permission to expand his territory? Yet there’s substance beneath the swagger. Anane has proven himself in Muay Thai’s eight-limbed warfare; kickboxing’s more limited arsenal might well play to his strengths, particularly that distance management he references with such pride.
But first, there are scores to settle in his primary domain. Jonathan Haggerty looms as the final boss in Muay Thai, a puzzle Anane seems genuinely eager to solve. His assessment of “The General” carries the analytical coolness of a chess master studying an opponent’s favorite opening.
“I think it’s just Haggerty left [in Muay Thai]. Let’s see. I also want to see what happens [when I fight Haggerty]. He has good footwork, he has good elbows, and good punches. It really depends on the moment and how the fight goes. Maybe my style matches with his style. Superlek’s style matches with his style and he doesn’t like Superlek’s style. It just really depends on the fighter and how things go in the ring,” he said.
There is wisdom in that uncertainty, a recognition that fights are not equations to be solved in advance but rather stories that write themselves in real time. Haggerty represents the kind of challenge that defines careers, the sort of opponent who can either validate a champion’s greatness or expose the fault lines in his foundation.
Then there is Yuki Yoza, whose recent vocal campaigns have apparently found their mark. Anane’s dismissal carries the sting of genuine irritation, the kind that makes fights interesting long before the opening bell.
“I don’t know what to say [about Yoza’s performances]. I haven’t seen things that impressed me in his style of fighting. He’s strong, yes, that’s what is impressive. But he hasn’t fought someone like me who is really hard to deal with and keeps distance well. Let’s see if he has a chance. He’s been talking a lot also, and sometimes it annoys me. Let’s see if he can break my leg,” he said.
The invitation hangs in the air like smoke from a just-fired pistol. Anane has issued challenges before, but this one carries personal weight, the kind that transforms technical matchups into grudge matches. Whether Yoza’s strength can overcome Anane’s measured distance game remains to be seen, but the young champion clearly relishes the opportunity to provide an answer.
At twenty-one, Anane possesses that dangerous combination of youth and accomplishment that has historically produced either legends or cautionary tales. His 2025 success provides the foundation, but 2026 will reveal whether he can build the mansion he envisions — one with rooms for both Muay Thai and kickboxing gold, with space reserved for anyone foolish enough to challenge his residency.
The calendar turns soon enough, and with it comes the chance for Anane to prove that his quiet confidence is not merely the arrogance of youth but the certainty of a champion who understands exactly what he’s built and precisely where he’s headed. In a sport where tomorrow is promised to no one, such conviction is either breathtaking or reckless. By year’s end, we’ll know which.
Nabil Anane outlines his ideal 2026https://t.co/avbM9NmnZU
— John Wolcott (@JohnJWolcott) January 6, 2026
