Philippine mixed martial arts in 2025 felt like a year that sprinted out of the gate, raised its hands in triumph, then stopped to catch its breath and never quite found its rhythm again.
It was a season defined by historic victories and sobering reminders of reality, by moments that deserved parades and stretches that tested the patience of even the most loyal supporters. To understand where the sport stands today, one has to sit with both pride and unease.
The year opened with a moment that changed the narrative forever. Denice Zamboanga’s second-round stoppage of Alyona Rassohyna last January delivered more than the ONE Interim Women’s Atomweight World Championship. It delivered history.
When Stamp Fairtex later relinquished the belt, and Zamboanga was elevated to full status as the divisional queen, the Philippines finally had what it had long chased. A Filipina holding a major MMA crown. It was definitive. That image alone will outlive the calendar year.
February added another chapter to the country’s championship lineage. Joshua Pacio settled every lingering argument by stopping Jarred Brooks in their trilogy, securing the undisputed strawweight throne and reinforcing his place among the nation’s most accomplished champions. There was clarity in that performance, a reminder that excellence still lives here when preparation meets opportunity.
Beyond the global spotlight, regional and grassroots triumphs told their own important story. Geli Bulaong’s gold medal run at the Southeast Asian Games in Thailand, even as a demonstration event, showed that Filipino mixed martial artists can thrive in multi-sport arenas. Youth victories, highlighted by Charlie Ratcliff’s Asian Youth Games success, hinted at a future quietly forming behind the scenes. These were not flukes. They were indicators.
There were also personal reinventions and overdue returns. Lito Adiwang’s move to flyweight ended emphatically with a first-round knockout. Jhanlo Sangiao reminded everyone of his finishing instincts after a long absence. Locally, Jake Bron and Kimbert Alintozon produced a nearly five-round classic for the vacant Zeus Fight League flyweight championship, capturing everything raw and chaotic about the sport. Contract news also brought optimism. Stephen Loman returned to BRAVE Combat Federation, and Drex Zamboanga found new opportunities with the Bahrain-based MMA organization. Movement, at least for some, suggested progress.
Then came the other half of the story.
2025 also carried the weight of endings heavier than expected. Eduard Folayang’s quick submission loss to Shinya Aoki was painful not because of the defeat, but because it reinforced a rivalry that time had already settled. Kevin Belingon’s defeat to Bibiano Fernandes added another somber note to a once-glorious chapter. Watching these pioneers circle familiar opponents again raised uncomfortable questions about direction.
Even success carried disappointment. Pacio’s attempt at a second division crown ended abruptly in Tokyo. Zamboanga’s withdrawal from a planned world title defense stalled momentum when anticipation was at its peak. Danny Kingad spent much of the year inactive. Jeremy Pacatiw struggled against high-caliber foes. Carlo Bumina-ang and Carlos Alvarez showed promise but stumbled against elite competition. On the other hand, a handful of highly touted prospects learned the hard way that hype does not equal readiness.
What tied these lows together was not simply losing. It was the gaps between bouts, the quiet months, and the limited platforms that left fans wondering whether momentum had quietly slipped away. Local professional promotions struggled to sustain regular activity. Legacy rivalries, once inspiring, increasingly felt like hesitation rather than homage. The sport risks letting opportunity pass while waiting for perfection.
In hindsight, 2025 was not a bad year. It was an incomplete one. It proved that Filipino fighters can still reach the summit, but it also exposed structural weaknesses that success alone cannot mask.
If activity does not increase and fresh names are not trusted sooner, the country risks watching its historic moments become isolated events rather than the foundation of a growing ecosystem.
Yet hope remains stubborn. It always has. The belts won this year matter. The lessons learned might matter even more. Philippine MMA does not need nostalgia. It needs motion.
As the calendar turns, the challenge is simple and unforgiving. Turn promise into consistency. Turn silence into action. And make sure that the next historic moment does not stand alone.
(For comments or questions, reach the author at nissi.icasiano@gmail.com or visit his Facebook page at www.facebook.com/nissi.icasiano.)
